\.wmwf;>*u¥'^yt^*'y\^''^-'^r^'".l  i»7'*w,«w.i]fjig(w"«"f",  JW7f"*!u^,'«F«^'w'«'^»'  j  >  f»r"'?"l'..^W 


'  "J!*  '7*vw/ffl?l' 


i^pi- "MTifli  nmiftiiii(''rrf>'J'i'» 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB 


■PJ       (If JUKI    IPIfl   U^IIV^-- 


"■^T^^i^  V~ 


BY   THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 

VERNON'S   AUNT. 

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A  SOCIAL  DEPARTURE: 

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THE    SIMPLE    ADVENTURES    OF   A 
MEMSAHIB. 

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I 


m 


■54 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  Publishers,  72  Fifth  Ave. 


*iJ^.    \  W    :.^rrr^z:^. 


■P: 


^'"^  m.f 


-A  • 


H'>,0l^;5;^. 


^9t    "■  '*' 


//<  Indian  garb. 


«T 


THE 


STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB 


BY 

MRS.   EVERARD  COTES 

(SARA  JEANNETTE   DUNCAN) 

AUTHOR    OF   A    SOCIAL    DEPARTURE,    AN    AMERICAN    GIRL   IN    LONDON, 

A    DAUGHTER    OF    TO-DAY,    VERNON's    AUNT,    ETC. 


NEW    YORK 
D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 

1895 


r    •   ''  "■"- 


■''"^,'  .**  *'^  ^.i^^^v^ 


V 


-•  o  T  V 


AO'? 


O^'^'^'l 


J)5025 


'v,'--^ 


Copyright,  1894, 
By  perry  mason  AND  COMPANY. 


Copyright,  1895, 
By  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


In  Indian  garb        .... 

Sonny  goes  to  court 

Before  the  Maharajah    . 

In  princely  favour. 

A  package  is  thrown  to  Moti 

Doctor  Roberts's  enemy 

Sonny's  hand  trembled  as  he  took  it 

An  early-morning  adventure 

"  Pris'ner,  sir  !  "       . 

"  And  this  is  the  baby  ? " 


FACINa 
PAQU 


Frontispiece 


24 
85 
43 
47 
65 
81 
91 
98 
111 


1 


Tt 


^•^ 


CHAPTER  I. 


''Ayah,"  the  doctor-sahib  said  in  the 
vernacular,  standing  beside  the  bed,  "the  fever 
of  the  mistress  is  like  fire.     Without  doubt  it 
cannot  go  on  thus,  but  all  that  is  in  your  hand 
to  do  you  have  done.     It  is  necessary  now  only 
to  be  very  watchful.     And  it  will  be  to  dress 
the  mistress,  and  to  make  everything  ready  for 
a  journey.     Two  hours  later  all  the  sahib  folk 
go  from  this  place  in  boats,  by  the  river,  to  Alla- 
habad.    I  will  send  an  ox-cart  to  take  the  mis- 
tress and  the  baby  and  you  to  the  bathing  ghat." 

'' Jeldl  Tcaro!''  he  added,  which  meant 
"  Quickly  do  !  "—a  thing  people  say  a  great  many 
times  a  day  in  India. 

The  ayah  looked  at  him  stupidly.  She  was 
terribly  frightened  ;  she  had  never  been  so  fright- 


2  THE  STORY  OF  SOJsinY  SATIIB. 

ened  before.  Her  eyes  wandered  from  the  doc- 
tor's face  to  the  ruined  south  wall  of  the  hut, 
where  the  sun  of  July,  when  it  happens  to  shine 
on  the  plains  of  India,  was  beating  fiercely  upon 
the  mud  floor.  That  ruin  had  happened  only  an 
hour  ago,  with  a  terrible  noise  just  outside,  such 
a  near  and  terrible  noise  that  she,  Tooni,  had 
scrambled  under  the  bed  the  mistress  was  lying 
on,  and  had  hidden  there  until  the  doctor-sahib 
came  and  pulled  her  forth  by  the  foot,  and  called 
her  a  poor  sort  of  person.  Then  Tooni  had  lain 
down  at  the  doctor-sahib's  feet,  and  tried  to  place 
one  of  them  upon  her  head,  and  said  that  indeed 
she  was  not  a  worthless  one,  but  that  she  was  very 
old  and  she  feared  the  guns ;  so  many  of  the 
sahibs  had  died  from  the  guns !  She,  Tooni,  did 
not  wish  to  die  from  a  gun,  and  would  ihe  Pres- 
ence, in  the  great  mercy  of  his  heart,  tell  her 
whether  there  would  be  any  more  shooHng? 
There  would  be  no  more  shooting,  the  Presence 
had  said  ;  and  then  he  had  given  her  a  bottle  and 
directions,  and  the  news  about  going  down  the 


T  ,.  ■   /'-"TT  •T.»_,r,    I  f 


T»Tn>  f7r~~rr.  ^rrv^-y.'n'^"'  crv 


•^WFVM1^>)II> 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  g 

river  in  a  boat.  Tooni's  mind  did  not  even  record 
the  directions,  but  it  managed  to  retain  the  words 
about  going  away  in  a  boat,  and  as  she  stood  twist- 
ing the  bottle  round  and  round  in  the  folds  of  her 
ragged  red  petticoat  it  made  a  desperate  effort  to 
extract  their  meaning. 

"There  will  be  no  more  shooting,"  said  the 
doctor  again,  ''and  there  is  a  man  outside  with  a 
goat.  He  will  give  you  two  pounds  of  milk  for 
the  baby  for  five  rupees." 

'^Uwpia!  I  have  not  even  one!"  said  the 
ayah,  looking  toward  the  bed;  "the  captain- 
sahib  has  not  come  these  thirty  days  as  he  prom- 
ised. The  colonel-sahib  has  sent  the  food.  The 
memsahib  is  for  three  days  without  a  pice." 

"I'll  pay,"  said  the  doctor  shortly,  and  turned 
hurriedly  to  go.  Other  huts  were  crying  out  for 
him  ;  he  could  hear  the  voice  of  some  of  them 
through  their  mud  partitions.  As  he  passed  out 
he  caught  a  glimpse  of  himself  in  a  little  square 
looking-glass  that  hung  on  a  nail  on  the  wall,  and 
it  made  him  start  nervously  and  then  smile  grimly. 


r">"T,.'^'Vf  ^-r---^-  ' 


-W*"  "  »"  ■  /"„'»""■■   ^-ip'M'     »  'tr—'-""lfP,;LWi^i*|.'M.'»1«l.JWJPIIWPPWp' 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


He  saw  the  face  of  a  man  who  had  not  slept  three 
hours  in  as  many  days  and  nights— a  haggard,  un- 
shaven face,  drawn  as  much  with  the  pain  of  others 
as  with  its  own  weariness.  His  hair  stood  up  in 
long  tufts,  his  eyes  had  black  circles  under  them. 
He  wore  neither  coat  nor  waistcoat,  and  his  regi- 
mental trousers  were  tied  round  the  waist  by  a  bit 
of  rope.  On  the  sleeve  of  his  collarless  shirt  were 
three  dark  dry  splashes  ;  he  noticed  them  as  he 
raised  his  arm  to  put  on  his  pith  helmet.  The 
words  did  not  reach  his  lips,  but  his  heart  cried 
out  within  him  for  a  boy  of  the  32nd. 

The  ayah  caught  up  her  brass  cooking-pot  and 
followed  him.  Since  the  doctor-sahib  was  to  pay, 
the  doctor-sahib  would  arrange  that  good  measure 
should  be  given  in  the  matter  of  the  milk.  And 
upon  second  thought  the  doctor-sahib  decided 
that  precautions  were  necessary.  He  told  the 
man  with  the  goat,  therefore,  that  when  the 
ayah  received  two  pounds  of  milk  she  would  pay 
him  the  five  rupees.  As  he  put  the  money  into 
Tooni's  hand  she  stayed  him  gently. 


I   MfJfV*    1^P'".f>     V\    UJ^WPl" 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  5 

"  We  are  to  go  without,  beyond  the  walls,  to 
the  ghat  ?  "  she  asked  in  her  own  tongue. 

"Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  *'in  two  hours.  I 
have  spoken." 

'•'- Hazur  !  "^  the  Nana  Sahib " 

"The  Nana  Sahib  has  written  it.  Bus!^^\ 
the  doctor  replied  impatiently.  "Put  the  mem- 
sahib  into  her  clothes.  Pack  everything  there  is, 
and  hasten.     Do  you  understand,  foolish  one  ?  " 

"  Very  good  !  "  said  the  ayah  submissively, 
and  watched  the  doctor  out  of  sight.  Then  she 
insisted — holding  the  rupees,  she  could  insist — 
that  the  goat-keeper  should  bring  his  goat  into 
the  hut  to  milk  it ;  there  was  more  safety,  Tooni 
thought,  in  the  hut.  While  he  milked  it  Tooni 
sat  upon  the  ground,  hugging  her  knees,  and 
thought. 

The  memsahib  had  said  nothing  all  this  time, 
had  known  nothing.  For  two  days  the  mem- 
sahib had  been,  as  Tooni  would  have  said,  with- 


*  "  Honourecl  one." 


f  "  Enough." 


6 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAUIB. 


out  SGDse— had  lain  on  the  bed  in  the  corner 
quietly  staring  at  the  wall,  where  the  looking- 
glass  hung,  making  no  sign  except  when  she 
heard  the  Nana  Sahib's  guns.  Then  she  sat  up 
straight,  and  laughed  very  prettily  and  sweetly. 
It  was  the  salute,  she  thought  in  her  fever ;  the 
Viceroy  was  coming  ;  there  would  be  all  sorts  of 
gay  doings  in  the  station.  When  the  shell  ex- 
ploded that  tore  up  the  wall  of  the  hut,  she 
asked  Tooni  for  her  new  blue  silk  with  the 
flounces,  the  one  that  had  been  just  sent  out  from 
England,  and  her  kid  slippers  with  the  rosettes. 
Tooni,  wiping  away  her  helpless  tears  with  the 
edge  of  her  head  covering,  had  said,  '''' JSfci^  mem- 
sahih,  nd!''  and  stroked  the  hot  hand  that 
pointed,  and  then  the  mistress  had  forgotten 
again.  As  to  the  little  pink  baby,  three  days  old, 
it  blinked  and  throve  and  slept  as  if  it  had  been 
born  in  its  father's  house  to  luxury  and  rejoicing. 
Tooni  questioned  the  goat-keeper  ;  but  he  had 
seen  three  sahibs  killed  that  morning,  and  was 
stupid  with  fear.    He  did  not  even  know  of  the 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB.  7 

Nana  Sahib's  order  that  the  English  were  to  be 
allowed  to  go  away  in  boats  ;  and  this  was  re- 
markable, because  he  lived  in. the  bazar  outside, 
and  in  the  bazar  people  ^.enerally  know  what  is 
going  to  happen  long  before  the  sahibs  who  live 
in  the  tall  white  houses  do.  Tooni  had  only  her 
own  reflections. 

There  w^ould  be  no  more  shooting,  and  the 
Nana  Sahib  would  let  them  all  go  away  in  boats  ; 
that  was  good  /chaber — good  news.  Tooni  won- 
dered, as  she  put  the  baby's  clothes  together  in 
one  bundle,  and  her  own  few  possessions  together 
in  another,  whether  it  was  to  be  believed.  The 
Nana  Sahib  so  hated  the  English  ;  had  not  the 
guns  spoken  of  his  hate  these  twenty-one  days  ? 
Inside  the  walls  many  had  died,  but  outside  the 
walls  might  not  all  die?  The  doctor  had  said 
that  the  Nana  Sahib  had  written  it ;  but  why 
should  the  Nana  Sahib  write  the  truth  ?  The 
Great  Lord  Sahib,  the  Viceroy,  had  sent  no  sol- 
diers to  compel  him.  Nevertheless,  Tooni  packed 
what  there  was  to  pack,  and  soothed  the  baby 


'^'»5«^»^riHrw"'"'«^r^™r-T""Tr»Tn'7'iiw'?TiiiBiiww3.ra^ 


8  THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 

with  a  little  goat's  milk  and  water,  and  dressed 
her  mistress  as  well  as  she  was  able,  according  to 
the  doctor's  directions.  Then  she  went  out  to 
where  old  Abdul,  the  table- waiter,  her  husband, 
crouched  under  a  wall,  and  told  him  all  that  she 
knew  and  feared.  But  Abdul,  having  heard  no 
guns  for  nearly  an  hour  and  a  half,  was  inclined 
to  be  very  brave,  and  said  that  without  doubt 
they  should  all  get  safely  to  Allahabad  ;  and 
there,  when  the  memsahib  was  better,  they  would 
find  the  captain-sahib  again,  and  he  would  give 
them  many  rupees  hacksheesJi  for  being  faithful 
to  her. 

**The  memsaliib  will  never  be  better,"  said 
Tooni,  sorrowfully;  "her  rice  is  finished  in  the 
earth.    The  memsahib  will  die." 

She  agreed  to  go  to  the  ghat,  though,  and 
went  back  into  the  hut  to  wait  for  the  ox- cart 
while  Abdul  cooked  a  meal  on  the  powder-black- 
ened ground  with  the  last  of  the  millet,  and  gave 
thanks  to  Allah. 

There  was  no  room  for  Tooni  to  ride  when 


1 


I 


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a> 


■■■w 


g<5a 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  9 

they  started.  She  walked  alongside  carrying  the 
baby  and  its  little  bundle  of  clothes.  There  was 
nothing  else  to  carry,  and  that  was  fortunate,  for 
the  cart  in  which  the  memsahib  lay  was  too  full 
of  sick  and  wounded  to  hold  anything  more.  In 
Toonf  s  pocket  a  little  black  book  swung  to  and 
fro  ;  it  was  the  memsahib's  book  ;  and  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  firing,  before  the  fever  came,  Tooni 
had  seen  the  memsahib  reading  it  long  and  often. 
They  had  not  been  killed  in  consequence,  Tooni 
thought ;  there  must  be  a  protecting  charm  in  the 
little  black  book ;  so  she  slipped  it  into  her 
pocket.    They  left  the  looking-glass  behind. 

The  ox-cart  passed  out  creaking,  in  its  turn, 
beyond  the  earthworks  of  the  English  encamp- 
ment into  the  city,  where  the  mutinous  natives 
stood  in  sullen  curious  groups  to  watch  the  train 
go  by.  A  hundred  yards  through  the  narrow 
streets,  choked  with  the  smell  of  gunpowder  and 
populous  with  vultures,  and  Abdul  heard  a  quick 
voice  in  his  ear.  When  he  turned,  none  were 
speaking,   but   he  recognised  in  the  crowd  the 


^ 


10 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


lowerins;  indifferent  face  of  a  sepoy  he  knew — 
one  of  the  Nana  Sahib's  servants.  Saying  noth- 
ing, he  fell  back  for  Tooni  and  laid  his  hand 
upon  her  arm.  And  when  the  cart  creaked  out 
of  the  town  into  the  crowded,  dusty  road  that  led 
down  to  the  ghat,  neither  Abdul  nor  Tooni  were 
in  the  riotous  crowd  that  pressed  along  with  it. 
They  had  taken  refuge  in  the  outer  bazar,  and 
Sonny  Sahib,  sound  asleep  and  well  hidden,  had 
taken  refuge  with  them. 

As  to  Sonny  Sahib's  mother,  she  was  neither 
shot  in  the  boats  with  the  soldiers  that  believed 
the  written  word  of  the  Nana  Sahib,  nor  stabbed 
with  the  women  and  children  who  went  back  to 
the  palace  afterwards.  She  died  quietly  in  the 
ox-cart  before  it  reached  the  ghat,  and  the  pity  of 
it  was  that  Sonny  Sahib's  father,  the  captain, 
himself  in  hospital  four  hundred  miles  from 
Cawnpore,  never  knew^. 

There  is  a  marble  angel  in  Cawnpore  now, 
standing  in  a  very  quiet  garden,  and  shut  off  even 
from  the  trees  and  the  flowers  by  an  enclosing 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


11 


new — 
notli- 
1  hand 
ed  out 
lat  led 
li  were 
dtli  it. 
LP,  and 
;n,  had 

neither 
elieved 
tabbed 
jack  to 
in  the 
pity  of 
aptain, 
from 


wall.  The  angel  looks  always  down,  down,  and 
such  an  awful,  pitiful  sorrow  stands  there  with 
her  that  nobody  cares  to  try  to  touch  it  with 
words.  People  only  come  and  look  and  go  silent- 
ly away,  wondering  what  time  can  have  for  the 
healing  of  such  a  wound  as  this.  There  is  an  in- 
scription— 

"  Sacred  to  the  perpetual  Memory  of  a 

GREAT  company   OF   CHRISTIAN   PEOPLE,  CHIEFLY 

Women  and  Children,  who  near  this  spot 
were  cruelly  murdered  by  the  followers  of 

THE  REBEL  NInA  DhUNDU  PaNT  OF  BiTHUR,  AND 
CAST,  THE  DYING  WITH  THE  DEAD,  INTO  THE  WELL 
BELOW,  ON  THE  15tH  DAY  OF  JuLY  MDCCCLYII." 

And  afterwards  Sonny  Sahib's  father  believed 
that  all  he  could  learn  while  he  lived  about  the 
fate  of  his  wife  and  his  little  son  was  written 
there.    But  he  never  knew. 


e  now, 
)ff  even 
closing 


CHAPTER   II. 

TooNi  and  Abdul  heard  the  terrible  news  of 
Cawnpore  six  months  later.  They  had  gone  back 
to  their  own  country,  and  it  was  far  from  Cawn- 
pore— hundreds  and  hundreds  of  miles  across  a 
white  sandy  desert,  grown  with  prickles  and  stud- 
ded with  rocks— high  up  in  the  north  of  Rajpu- 
tana.  In  the  State  of  Chita  and  the  town  of  Rub- 
bulgurh  there  was  no  fighting,  because  there  were 
no  sahibs.  The  English  had  not  yet  come  to 
teach  the  Maharajah  how  to  govern  his  estate  and 
spend  his  revenues.  That  is  to  say,  there  was  no 
justice  to  speak  of,  and  a  great  deal  of  cholera, 
and  by  no  means  three  meals  a  day  for  everybody, 
or  even  two.  But  nobody  was  discontented  with 
troubles  that  came  from  the  gods  and  the  Mahara- 
jah, and  talk  of  greased  cartridges  would  not  have 
been  understood.    Thinking  of  this,  Abdul  often 

12 


p^>1 


IJiWipP    ■■!        ,iP'il|l     IP 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


18 


-■.-^•^j 


■>'M 


said  to  Tooni,  his  wife,  "  The  service  of  the  sahib 
is  good  and  profitable,  but  in  old  age  peace  is  bet- 
ter, even  though  we  are  compelled  to  pay  many 
rupees  to  the  tax-gatherers  of  the  Maharajah." 
Tooni  always  agreed,  and  when  the  khaber  came 
that  all  the  memsahibs  and  the  children  had  been 
killed  by  the  sepoys,  she  agreed  weeping.  They 
were  always  so  kind  and  gentle,  the  memsahibs, 
and  the  little  ones,  the  hahalok — the  hahalok ! 
Surely  the  sepoyu  had  become  like  the  tiger-folk. 
Then  she  picked  up  Sonny  Sahib  and  held  him 
tighter  than  he  liked.  She  had  crooned  with  pa- 
tient smiles  over  many  of  the  hahalok  in  her  day, 
but  from  beginning  to  end,  never  a  baba  like  this. 
So  strong  he  was,  he  could  make  old  Abdul  cry 
out,  pulling  at  his  beard,  so  sweet-tempered  and 
healthy  that  he  would  sleep  just  where  he  was 
put  down,  like  other  babies  of  Rubbulgurh. 
Tooni  grieved  deeply  that  she  could  not  give  him 
a  bottle,  and  a  coral,  and  a  perambulator,  and 
often  wondered  that  he  consented  to  thrive  with- 
out these  things,  but  the  fact  remains  that  he  did. 


14 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


He  even  allowed  himself  to  be  oiled  all  over  occa- 
sionally for  the  good  of  his  health,  which  was  for- 
bearing in  a  British  baby.  And  always  when  Ab- 
dul shook  his  finger  at  him  and  said — 

•'  Gorah  pah  howdah,  hathi  pah  jeen  I 
Jeldi  bag-gia,  Warren  Has/een  /  "  * 

he  laughed  and  crowed  as  if  he  quite  understood 
the  joke. 

Tooni  had  no  children  of  her  own,  and  won- 
dered how  long  it  would  be  before  she  and  Abdul 
must  go  again  to  Cawnpore  to  find  the  baby's 
father.  There  need  be  no  hurry,  Tooni  thought,  as 
Sonny  Sahib  played  with  the  big  silver  hoops  in 
her  ears,  and  tried  to  kick  himself  over  her 
shoulder.  Abdul  calculated  the  number  of  rupees 
that  would  be  a  suitable  reward  for  taking  care  of 
a  baby  for  six  months,  found  it  considerable,  and 
said  they  ought  to  start  at  once.  Then  other  news 
came — gathering  terror  from  mouth  to  mouth  as 

*  "  Howdahs  on  horses,  on  elephants /een  / 
He  ran  away  quickly,  did  Wan-en  Has^fen  /" 
"  Jeen  "  means  "  saddles,"  but  nobody  could  make  that  rhyme  1 
Popular  incident  of  an  English  retreat  in  Hastings'  time. 


••-y 


THE  STORY  OP   SONNY  SAHIB. 


15 


it  crossed  Rajputana— and  Abdul  told  his  wife  one 
evening,  after  she  had  put  Sonny  Sahib  to  sleep 
with  a  hymn  to  Isralil,  that  a  million  of  English 
soldiers  had  come  upon  Cawnpore,  and  in  their 
hundredfold  revenge  had  left  neither  Mussulman 
nor  Hindoo  alive  in  the  city — also  that  the  Great 
Lord  Sahib  had  ordered  the  head  of  every  Tidla 
admi^  every  black  man,  to  be  taken  to  build  a 
bridge  across  the  Ganges  with,  so  that  hereafter 
his  people  might  leave  Cawnpore  by  another  way. 
Then  Abdul  also  became  of  the  opinion  that  there 
need  be  no  haste  in  going. 

Sonny  Sahib  grew  out  of  the  arms  and  necks 
of  his  long  embroidered  night  dresses  and  day 
dresses  almost  immediately,  and  then  there  was 
a  difficulty,  which  Tooni  surmounted  by  cutting 
the  waists  off  entirely  and  gathering  the  skirts 
round  the  baby's  neck  with  a  drawing  string,  mak- 
ing holes  in  the  sides  for  his  arms  to  come 
through.  Tooni  bought  him  herself  a  little  blue 
and  gold  Mussulman  cap  in  the  bazar.  The  cap- 
tain-sahib would  be  angry,  but  then  the  captain- 


•  f,w-^-tr*n-9-^iv^iftr}^jfrtwfj  j 


16 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


sahib  was  very  far  away,  killed  perhaps,  and 
Tooni  thought  the  blue  and  gold  cap  wonderfully 
becoming  to  Sonny  Sahib.  All  day  long  he 
played  and  crept  in  this  under  the  sacred  peepul- 
tree  in  the  middle  of  the  village  among  brown- 
skinned  babies  who  wore  no  clothes  at  all — only  a 
string  of  beads  round  their  fat  little  waists — and 
who  sometimes  sat  down  in  silence  and  made  a 
solemn  effort  to  comprehend  him. 

In  quite  a  short  time — ^in  Kubbulgurh,  where 
there  is  no  winter,  two  years  is  a  very  little  while — 
Sonny  Sahib  grew  too  big  for  even  this  adaptation 
of  his  garments  ;  and  then  Tooni  took  him  to 
Sheik  Uddin,  the  village  tailor,  and  gave  Sheik 
Uddin  long  and  careful  directions  about  making 
clothes  for  him.  The  old  man  listened  to  her  for 
an  hour,  and  waggled  his  beard,  and  said  that  he 
quite  understood  ;  it  should  be  as  she  wished. 
But  Sheik  Uddin  had  never  seen  any  English 
people,  and  did  not  understand  at  all.  He  ac- 
cepted Tooni's  theories,  but  he  measured  and  cut 
according  to  his  own.    Sheik  Uddin  could  not 


T^y  ■»LJi.  u^  -wiT|p 


N|     «piBII.L|UI  VVI 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


17 


afford  to  suffer  in  his  reputation  for  the  foolish 
notions  of  a  woman.  So  he  made  Sonny  Sahib  a 
pair  of  narrow  striped  calico  trousers,  and  a  long 
tight-fitting  little  coat  with  large  bunches  of  pink 
roses  on  it,  in  what  was  the  perfectly  correct  fash- 
ion for  Mahomedan  little  boys  of  Rubbulgurh  and 
Rajputana  generally.  Tooni  paid  Sheik  Uddin 
tenpence,  and  admired  her  purchase  very  much. 
She  dressed  Sonny  Sahib  in  it  doubtfully,  how- 
ever, with  misgivings  as  to  what  his  father  would 
say.  Certainly  it  was  good  cloth,  of  a  pretty 
colour,  and  well  made,  but  even  to  Tooni,  Sonny 
Sahib  looked  queer.  Abdul  had  no  opinion,  ex- 
cept about  the  price.  He  grumbled  at  that,  but 
then  he  had  grumbled  steadily  for  two  years,  yet 
whenever  Tooni  proposed  that  they  should  go 
and  find  the  captain- sahib,  had  said  no,  it  was 
far,  and  he  was  an  old  man.  Tooni  should  go 
when  he  was  dead. 

Besides,  Abdul  liked  to  hear  the  little  fellow 
call  him  "Bap,"  which  meant  "Father,"  and  to 
feel  his  old  brown  finger  clasped  by  small  pink 


■;•(.  :  v". 


18 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


and  white  ones,  as  he  and  Sonny  Sahib  toddled 
into  the  bazar  together.  He  liked  to  hear  Sonny 
Sahib's  laugh,  too  ;  it  was  quite  a  different  laugh 
from  any  other  boy's  in  Rubbulgurh,  and  it  came 
oftener.  He  was  a  merry  little  fellow,  blue-eyed, 
with  very  yellow  wavy  hair,  exactly,  Tooni  often 
thought,  like  his  mother's. 


in 


CHAPTER  III. 

It  was  a  grief  to  Tooni,  wlio  could  not  under- 
stand it ;  but  Sonny  Sahib  perversely  refused  to 
talk  in  his  own  tongue.  She  did  all  she  could  to 
help  him.  When  he  was  a  year  old  she  cut  an 
almond  in  two,  and  gave  half  to  Sonny  Sahib  and 
half  to  the  green  parrot  that  swung  all  day  in  a 
cage  in  the  door  of  the  hut  and  had  a  fine  gift  of 
conversation ;  if  anything  would  make  the  baby 
talk  properly  that  would.  Later  on  she  taught 
him  all  the  English  words  she  remembered  her- 
self, which  were  three,  "bruss"'  and  *'wass'" 
and  **isstockin',"  her  limited  but  useful  vocab- 
ulary as  lady's  maid.  He  learned  them  very 
well,  but  he  continued  to  know  only  three,  and 
he  did  not  use  them  very  often,  which  Tooni 
found  strange.  Tooni  thought  the  baba  should 
have  inherited  his  mother's   language  with  his 

19 


.  ■\1J>'.       HiitL    . 


20 


THE  STORY  OP  SC'TNY  SAHIB. 


blue  eyes  and  his  white  skin.  Meanwhile,  Sonny 
Sahib,  playing  every  morning  and  evening  under 
the  peepul-tree,  learned  to  talk  in  the  tongue  of 
the  little  brown  boys  who  played  there  too. 

When  Sonny  Sahib  was  four  he  could  drive 
the  big  black  hairy  buffaloes  home  from  the  vil- 
lage outskirts  to  be  milked.  Abdul  walked  be- 
side him,  but  Sonny  Sahib  did  all  the  shouting 
and  the  beating  with  a  bit  of  stick,  which  the 
buffaloes  must  have  privately  smiled  at  when 
they  felt  it  on  their  muddy  flanks,  that  is,  if  a 
buffalo  ever  smiles,  which  one  cannot  help  think- 
ing doubtful.  Sonny  Sahib  liked  buffalo  milk, 
and  had  it  every  day  for  his  dinner  with  chupat- 
ties,  and  sometimes,  for  a  treat,  a  bit  of  roast  kid. 
Chupatties  are  like  pancakes  with  everything  that 
is  nice  left  out  of  them,  and  were  very  popular  in 
Rubbulgurh.  Sonny  Sahib  thought  nothing  in 
the  world  could  be  better,  except  the  roast  kid. 
On  days  of  festival  Abdul  always  gave  him  a  pice 
to  buy  sweetmeats  with,  and  he  drove  a  hard  bar- 
gain with  either  Wahid  Khan  or  Sheik  Luteef, 


■«^-WP"V",'FT?"«'«WI|P'  ,WV^^'*T'WJ 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


21 


wlio  were  rival  dealers.  Sonny  Sahib  always  got 
more  of  the  sticky  brown  balls  of  sugar  and  but- 
ter and  cocoanut  for  his  pice  than  any  of  the 
other  boys.  Wahid  Khan  and  Sheik  Luteef  both 
thought  it  brought  them  luck  to  sell  to  him. 
But  afterwards  Sonny  Sahib  invariably  divided 
his  purchase  with  whoever  happened  to  be  his 
bosom  friend  at  the  time — the  daughter  of  Ram 
Dass,  the  blacksmith,  or  the  son  of  Chundaputty, 
the  beater  of  brass— in  which  he  differed  alto- 
gether from  the  other  boys,  and  which  made  it 
fair  perhaps. 

At  six  Sonny  Sahib  began  to  find  the  other 
boys  unsatisfactory  in  a  number  of  ways.  He 
was  tired  of  making  patterns  in  the  dust  with 
marigolds  for  one  thing.  He  wanted  to  pretend. 
It  was  his  birthright  to  pretend,  in  a  large  active 
way,  and  he  couldn't  carry  it  out.  The  other 
boys  didn't  care  about  making  believe  soldiers, 
and  running  and  hiding  and  shouting  and  beating 
Sonny  Sahib's  tom-tom,  which  made  a  splendid 
drum.    They  liked  beating  the  tom-tom,  but  they 


22 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


always  wanted  to  sit  round  in  a  ring  and  listen  to 
it,  which  Sonny  Sahib  thought  very  poor  kind  of 
fun  indeed.  They  wouldn't  even  pretend  to  be 
elephants,  or  horses,  or  buffaloes.  Sonny  Sahib 
had  to  represent  them  all  himself ;  and  it  is  no 
wonder  that  with  a  whole  menagerie,  as  it  were, 
upon  his  shoulders,  he  grew  a  little  tired  some- 
times. Also  he  was  the  only  boy  in  Rubbulgurh 
who  cared  to  climb  a  tree  that  had  no  fruit  on  it, 
or  would  venture  beyond  the  lower  branches  even 
for  mangoes  or  tamarinds.  And  one  day  when  he 
found  a  weaver-bird's  nest  in  a  bush  with  three 
white  eggs  in  it,  a  splendid  nest,  stock-full  of  the 
fire-flies  that  light  the  little  hen  at  night,  he 
showed  it  privately  first  to  Hurry  Ghose,  and 
then  to  Sumpsi  Din,  and  lastly  to  Budhoo,  the 
sweeper's  son  ;  and  not  one  of  them  could  he  coax 
to  carry  off  a  single  egg  in  company  with  him. 
Sonny  Sahib  recognised  the  force  of  public  opin- 
ion, and  left  the  weaver-bird  to  her  house-keeping 
in  peace,  but  he  felt  privately  injured  by  it. 
Certainly  the  other  boys  could  tell  wonderful 


i 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


23 


stories — stories  of  princesses  and  fairies  and  de- 
mons—Sumpsi  Din's  were  the  best— that  made 
Sonny  Sahib's  blue  eyes  widen  in  the  dark,  when 
they  all  sat  together  on  a  charpoy  by  the  door  of 
the  hut,  and  the  stars  glimmered  through  the 
tamarind- trees.  A  charpoy  is  a  bed,  and  every- 
body in  Rubbulgurh  puts  one  outside,  for  socia- 
bility, in  the  evening.  Not  much  of  a  bed,  only 
four  short  rickety  legs  held  together  with  knotted 
string,  but  it  answers  very  well. 

Sonny  Sahib  didn't  seem  to  know  any  stories 
— he  could  only  tell  the  old  one  about  the  fighting 
Abdul  saw  over  and  over  again — but  it  was  the 
single  thing  they  could  do  better  than  he  did. 
On  the  whole  he  began  to  prefer  the  society  of 
Abdul's  black  and  white  goats,  which  bore  a 
strong  resemblance  to  Abdul  himself,  by  the 
way,  and  had  more  of  the  spirit  of  adventure. 
It  was  the  goat,  for  example,  that  taught  Sonny 
Sahib  to  walk  on  the  extreme  edge  of  the  house- 
top and  not  tumble  over.  In  time  they  be- 
came great  friends,  Sonny  Sahib  and  the  goat, 


F*^  '  -w^^TTi     f'*r  t 


24  THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 

and  always,  when  it  was  not  too  hot,  they  slept 
together. 

Then  two  things  happened.  First,  Abdul 
died,  and  Sonny  Sahib  became  acquainted  with 
grief,  both  according  to  his  own  nature  and  ac- 
cording to  the  law  of  Mahomed.  Then,  after  he 
and  Tooni  had  mourned  sincerely  with  very  little 
to  eat  for  nine  days,  there  clattered  one  day  a 
horseman  through  the  village  at  such  a  pace  that 
everybody  ran  out  to  see.  And  he  was  worth 
seeing,  that  horseman,  in  a  blue  turban  as  big  as 
a  little  tub,  a  yellow  coat,  red  trousers  with  gold 
lace  on  them,  and  long  boots  that  stuck  out  far 
on  either  side  ;  and  an  embroidered  saddle  and  a 
tasselled  bridle,  and  a  pink-nosed  white  charger 
that  stepped  and  pranced  in  the  bazar  so  that 
Ram  Dass  himself  had  to  get  out  of  the  way. 
It  ought  to  be  said  that  the  horseman's  clothes 
did  not  fit  him  very  well,  that  his  saddle  girth 
was  helped  out  by  a  bit  of  rope,  and  that  his 
charger  was  rather  tender  on  his  near  fore-foot ; 
but  these  are  not  things  that  would  be  noticed  in 


■  •■!  i  -1  1— !  (— 1  — »   — I  l-n  TT  —      -1—1 


Sonny  goes  to  court. 


w^ 


■  ■IIIWI  I 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  25 

Rubbulgurh,  being  lost  in  the  general  splendour 
of  his  appearance. 

Sonny  Sahib  ran  after  the  horseman  with  all 
the  other  boys,  until,  to  everybody's  astonish- 
ment, he  stopped  with  tremendous  prancings  at 
Tooni's  mud  doorstep,  where  she  sat  to  watch  him 
go  by.  Then  Sonny  Sahib  slipped  away.  He 
was  afraid— he  did  not  know  of  what.  He  ran 
half  a  mile  beyond  the  village,  and  helped 
Sumpsi  Din  keep  the  parrots  out  of  his  father's 
millet  crop  all  day  long.  Nor  did  he  say  a  word 
to  Sumpsi  Din  about  it,  for  fear  he  should  be 
persuaded  to  go  back  again.  Instead,  he  let 
Sumpsi  Din  sleep  for  long  hours  at  a  time  face- 
downwards  on  his  arm  in  the  sun,  which  was 
what  Sumpsi  Din  liked  best  in  the  world,  while 
he.  Sonny  Sahib,  clapped  his  hands  a  hundred 
times  at  the  little  green  thieves,  abusing  them 
roundly,  and  wondering  always  at  the  back  of  his 
head  why  so  splendid  a  horseman  should  have 
stopped  at  his  particular  doorstep. 

Tooni  was  frightened  too— so  frightened  that 


26  THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 

she  could  think  of  nothing  to  do  but  stand  per- 
fectly still,  shading  her  eyes  and  putting  back 
her  wisps  of  gi'ey  hair.  The  rabble  of  the  vil- 
lage and  all  the  j)ariah  dogs  gathered  round, 
and  Wahid  Khan,  the  sweetmeat  seller,  and  two 
goats  and  other  respectable  persons ;  and  Ram 
Singh,  the  messenger,  said  to  Tooni : 

*'  Salaam,  worthy  one ! " 

Tooni's  hand  went  to  her  forehead. 

*' Salaam,  your  honour!"  said  she.  At  the 
same  moment  she  reflected  that  since  the  Maha- 
rajah's horseman  thought  it  worth  while  to  be 
polite  he  probably  wanted  something,  which 
might  or  might  not  be  reassuring— so  much  de- 
pended on  what  it  was. 

"I  look  for  Tooni,  Abdul's  widow,"  said  he 
pompously,  "and  a  child  of  the  white  dogs,  who 
lives  with  her. " 

Tooni  trembled. 

"I  am  that  poor  creature,  your  honour,"  said 
she ;  and  the  leanest  pariah  helped  himself  to 
a  kid-shank  ready  for  boiling  just  inside  the 


Mi'tTCt^iiMaiuiv  III 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  27 

hut,  nobody  paying  the  slightest  attention  to 
him. 

"I  come  from  the  palace  with  a  command  to 
you  from  the  Maharajah.  His  Highness  wishes 
the  white  puppy  to  be  brought  to  him  at  once." 

"There!"  exclaimed  Wahid  Khan  mourn- 
fully, while  Tooni  stared.  *'I  always  feared 
the  little  Sahib  would  come  to  a  bad  end.  The 
gods  have  given  him  no  morals !  What  did  I 
find  him  doing  yesterday !  Blowing  an  egg — 
a  pigeon's  egg\  Now,  an  egg  is  a  sacred  thing, 
Abdul's  widow — a  very  sacred  thing !  " 

*'But  what  is  it — "  Tooni  faltered,  taking  no 
notice  of  Wahid  Khan — "what  is  it  that  His 
Highness  desires  with  the  child  ? " 

"How  should  I  know  that,  Abdul's  widow? 
Certainly  I  do  not  know  it,"  and  Ram  Singh 
put  his  foot  into  his  stirrup. 

Tooni  bethought  her  then  of  expedients. 

"Is  there  anything  that  you  do  not  know, 

noble  one?     It  is  said  in  the  village  that  the 

Maharajah's    secrets   are   all    in   your  keeping. 
3 


-^  I  jip-j'w-iw-i 'iii»   I  ■    ipiipf^j  iif>iaiiM'ii'ii9"!i"rMV —  ■Lwp^ffigjpi  jiiiyiiyii^ii^Bim' 


28  THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 

But  perhaps  this  was  too  important  even  for 
your  ears."  Then  she  added  respectfully:  *'I 
am  an  old  woman,  but  I  am  glad  to  have  lived 
to  see  your  honour's  beard.  Such  a  beard  as 
that  is  not  seen  every  day  !  "  It  was  outrageous 
of  Tooni,  but  you  must  make  excuses  for  her. 
Consider  the  circumstances. 

Ram  Singh  stroked  it  complacently. 

"It  is  said  to  be  a  fine  beard,"  he  admitted; 
"already  it  is  as  long  as  my  grandfather's.  And 
the  gossip  that  I  am  in  the  confidence  of  the 
Maharajah  has  some  truth  in  it,  worthy  Tooni. 
This  much  I  can  say,  that  no  harm  will  come  to 
the  boy." 

"But  of  course  your  honour  did  not  hear  for 
what  purpose  he  is  to  be  brought."  Tooni  looked 
at  him  admiringly— it  was  shocking,  such  make- 
believe.  "How  tall  are  the  Rajputs!  I  have 
never  seen  an  Englishman,  even  in  Calcutta,  as 
tall  as  your  honour." 

"And  I  have  heard  that  the  English  are  pro- 
digiously tall  men.    But  I  can  tell  you,  Abdul's 


:' 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB.  29 

widow,  much  more  important  matters  than  that 
reach  my  ears.  When  His  Highness  smothered 
his  grand-aunt— but  that  is  a  foolish  tale,  and 
not  to  be  repeated ;  do  you  understand  ?  The 
word  I  bring  has  been  spoken,"  and  Ram  Singh 
looked  round  upon  the  crowd  with  a  grand  air. 
*'Now  where  is  the  house  of  Wahid  Khan,  seller 
of  sweetmeats,  for  he  owes  my  father  money  ? " 

But  Wahid  Khan,  whose  memory  had  served 
him  in  time,  had  disappeared,  and  by  a  curious 
coincidence  none  of  his  acquaintances  appeared 
to  be  present,  thougli  the  second  leanest  pariah, 
^who  owed  Wahid  Khan  a  lame  leg,  looked  as  if 
he  could  mention  his  address  with  pleasure. 

In  the  evening,  when  the  pipal-trees  threw 
long  shadows  and  the  "cons'  dust"  stood  in  the 
afterglow  all  along  the  broad  road  to  the  jungle. 
Sonny  Sahib  came  back  very  hungry,  hoping  the 
horseman  would  be  gone,  and  heard  Tooni's  won- 
derful news.  Before  she  gave  him  water  or  oil, 
or  even  a  chupatty,  Tooni  tcld  him,  holding  his 
hand  in  hers. 


30  THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 

"  The  Maharajah  has  sent  for  you,  O  noonday 
lute;  where  have  you  been  in  the  sun?  The 
Maharajah  has  sent  for  you,  lotus-eyed  one,  and 
I,  though  I  am  grown  too  old  for  journeys,  must 
go  also  to  the  palace  of  the  Maharajah  !  Oh,  it  is 
very  far,  and  I  know  not  what  he  desires,  the 
Maharajah  !  My  heart  is  split  in  two,  little  Sa- 
hib !  This  khaber  is  the  cat's  moon  to  me.  I 
will  never  sleep  again  !  " 

Then  for  some  reason  the  fear  went  out  of 
Sonny  Sahib.  "  Am  I  not  going  with  you,  Tooni- 
ji  f  "  said  he,  which  was  his  w^ay  of  saying  "  dear 
Tooni."  "There  is  no  cause  for  fear.  And  will 
it  not  be  very  beautiful,  the  palace  of  the  Maha- 
rajah %  Sumpsi  Din  says  that  it  is  built  of  gold 
and  silver.  And  now  I  should  like  six  chupat- 
ties,  and  some  milk  and  some  fried  brinjal,  like 
yesterday's,  only  more,  Tooni-y/." 


'■W?W»l'W«!i!»  ",*-*•"''■  VH",«l<»wjii"»B»'ii',V.WP»»5flf^^^^l!Wi.*'"' 


, 


i|f 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  palace  of  the  Maharajah  at  Lalpore  was 
not  exactly  built  of  gold  and  silver  ;  but  if  it  had 
been,  Sonny  Sahib  could  hardly  have  thought  it 
a  finer  place.  It  had  a  wall  all  rourd  it,  even  on 
the  side  where  the  river  ran,  and  inside  the  wall 
were  courts  and  gardens  with  fountains  and  roses 
in  them,  divided  by  other  walls,  and  pillared 
verandahs,  where  little  green  lizards  ran  about  in 
the  sun,  and  a  great  many  stables,  where  the 
Maharajah's  horses  pawed  and  champed  to  be  let 
out  and  ridden.  The  palace  itself  was  a  whole 
story  higher  than  the  stables,  and  consisted  of  a 
wilderness  of  little  halls  with  grated  windows. 
It  smelt  rather  too  strong  of  attar  of  roses  in 
there— the  Maharajah  was  fond  of  attar  of  roses 
—but  the  decorations  on  the  whitewashed  walls, 
in  red  and  yellow,  were  very  wonderful  indeed. 

31 


*!!»,y»"'^{<"»»l'^Vii*'W«irii'  '■ 


32 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


'J 


The  courtyards  and  the  verandahs  were  full  of 
people,  soldiers,  syces,  merchants  with  their 
packs,  sweetmeat  sellers,  barbers  ;  only  the  gar- 
dens were  empty.  Sonny  Sahib  thought  that  if 
he  lived  in  the  palace  he  would  stay  always  in  the 
gardens,  watching  the  red- spotted  fish  in  the 
fountains,  and  gathering  the  roses  ;  but  the  peo- 
ple who  did  live  there  seemed  to  prefer  smoking 
long  bubbling  pipes  in  company,  or  disputing 
over  their  bargains,  or  sleeping  by  the  hour  in 
the  shade  of  the  courtyard  walls.  There  were  no 
women  anywhere  ;  but  if  Sonny  Sahib  had  pos- 
sessed the  ears  or  the  eyes  of  the  country,  he 
might  have  heard  many  swishings  and  patterings 
and  whisperings  behind  curtained  doors,  and 
have  seen  many  fingers  on  the  curtains'  edge  and 
eyes  at  the  barred  windows  as  he  went  by. 

This  was  the  palace,  and  the  palace  w^as  the 
crown  of  Lalpore,  which  was  built  on  the  top  of  a 
hill,  and  could  lock  itself  in  behind  walls  ten 
feet  thick  all  round,  if  an  enemy  came  that 
way. 


, 


f 


*»  "^TTf'  "."r.'^^yww- 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


33 


The  Maharajah  was  to  receive  them  in  one  of 
the  pillared  verandahs,  one  that  looked  out  over 
the  river,  where  there  was  a  single  great  ivory- 
chair,  with  a  red  satin  cushion,  and  a  large  piece 
of  carpet  in  front  of  it,  and  nothing  else.  It  was 
the  only  chair  in  the  palace,  probably  the  only 
chair  in  all  the  Maharajah's  State  of  Chita,  and 
as  Sonny  Sahib  had  never  seen  a  chair  before  he 
found  it  very  interesting.  He  and  Tooni  in- 
spected it  from  a  respectful  distance,  and  then 
withdrew  to  the  very  farthest  corner  of  the  ver- 
andah to  wait  for  the  Maharajah.  A  long  time 
they  waited,  and  yet  Tooni  would  not  sit  down. 
What  might  not  the  Maharajah  do  if  he  came 
and  found  them  disrespectfully  seated  in  his 
audience  hall !  Patiently  she  stood,  first  on  one 
foot  and  then  on  the  other,  with  her  lips  all  puck- 
ered up  and  her  eyes  on  the  floor,  thinking  of 
things  that  would  be  polite  enough  to  say  to  a 
Maharajah.  They  were  so  troublesome  to  think 
of,  that  she  could  not  attend  to  what  Sonny  Sa- 
hib said  at  all,  even  when  he  asked  her  for  the 


k 


34  THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 

sixth  tim    how  you  made  a  peacock  with  blue 

glass  eyes,  like  the  one  on  each  arm  of  His  High- 

ness's  chair.     Sonny  Sahib  grew  quite  tired  of 

watching  the  mud-turtle  that  was  paddling  about 

in  a  pool  of  the  shallow  river  among  the  yellow  j 

sands  down  below,   and  of  counting  the  camels 

that  were  wading  across  it,  carrying  their  packs 

and  their  masters ;  and  yet  the  Maharajah  did  not 

come. 

*'  Tooni,"  he  said  presently,  ''  without  doubt  I 
must  sit  down,"  and  down  he  sat  plumply,  with 
his  back  against  the  wall,  and  his  two  small 
legs,  in  their  very  best  striped  cotton  trousers, 
stretched  out  in  front  of  him. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  the  Maharajah  was  asleep, 
and  had  forgotten  all  about  Sonny  Sahib  in  the 
hall  of  audience.  It  was  Moti*  who  reminded 
him,  whispering  in  his  ear  until  he  awoke.  Moti 
was  the  little  Maharajah,  and  that  was  his  pet 
name.  Moti  was  privileged  to  remind  his  father 
of  things. 

*  A  pearl. 


f 


I 

m 


w 


.3 

I 

«> 

t 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAIIIB. 


35 


9; 

J.) 

.3 


So  Mod  and  the  Maharajah  went  down  to  the 
audience  hall  together,  and  there  they  found 
Sonny  Sahib  asleep  too,  which  was  not  wonderful, 
considering  that  the  Maharajah  had  kept  him 
waiting  two  hours  and  a  quarter.  Perhaps  this 
occurred  to  His  Highness,  and  prevented  him 
from  being  angry.  At  all  events,  as  Sonny  Sahib 
scrambled  to  his  feet  in  response  to  a  terrified  tug 
from  Tooni,  he  did  not  look  very  angry. 

Sonny  Sahib  saw  a  little  lean  old  man,  with 
soft  sunken  black  eyes,  and  a  face  like  a  withered 
potato.  He  wore  a  crimson  velvet  smoking-cap 
upon  his  head,  and  was  buttoned  up  to  the  chin 
in  a  long  tight  coat  of  blue  and  yellow  brocade. 
Above  the  collar  and  below  the  sleeves  of  the  coat 
showed  the  neck  and  cuffs  of  an  English  linen 
shirt,  which  were  crumpled  and  not  particularly 
clean.  The  cuffs  were  so  big  that  the  Mahara- 
jah's thin  little  brown  fingers  were  almost  lost  in 
them.  The  blue  and  yellow  brocaded  coat  was 
buttoned  up  with  emeralds,  but  the  Maharajah 
shuffled  along  in  a  pair  of  old  carpet  slippers, 


36  THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAIIIB. 

which  to  Sonny  Sahib  were  the  most  remarkable 
features  of  his  attire.  So  much  occupied,  indeed, 
was  Sonny  Sahib  in  looking  at  the  Maharajah's 
slippers,  that  he  quite  forgot  to  make  his  salaam. 
As  for  Tooni,  she  was  lying  flat  at  their  High- 
nesses' feet,  talking  indistinctly  into  the  marble 
floor. 

The  little  Highness  was  much  pleasanter  to 
look  at  than  his  father.  He  had  large  dark  eyes 
and  soft  light- brown  cheeks,  and  he  was  all 
dressed  in  pink  satin,  with  a  little  jewelled  cap, 
and  his  long  black  hair  tied  up  in  a  hard  knot  at 
the  back  of  his  neck.  The  little  Highness  looked 
at  Sonny  Sahib  curiously,  and  then  tugged  at  his 
father's  sleeve. 

"Let  him  come  with  me  now,  immediately," 
said  the  little  Maharajah  ;  "he  has  a  face  of 
gold." 

The  Maharajah  sat  down,  not  in  his  chair — he 
did  not  greatly  like  sitting  in  his  chair — but  on 
the  carpet. 

"  Whence  do  you  come  % "  said  he  to  Tooni. 


' 


■ 


' 


THE  STORY  OF  SOxXNY  SAHIB.  37 

"Protector  of  the  poor,  from  Rubbulgurh." 
"Where    your    Highness    sent    to    for   us," 

added  Sonny  Sahib.     "  Tooni,  why  do  you  pinch 

me?" 

His  Highness  looked  disconcerted  for  a  mo- 
ment. As  a  matter  of  fact  he  had  known  all 
that  Tooni  or  Sonny  Sahib  could  tell  him  about 
themselves  for  three  years,  but  he  considered  it 
more  dignified  to  appear  as  if  he  knew  nothing. 

"This  is  a  child  of  the  mlechas, '\  8ai6.  the 
Maharajah,  which  was  not  a  very  polite  way  of 
saying  that  he  was  English. 

"Protector  of  the  poor,  yes." 

"Account  to  me  for  him.     How  old  is  he?" 

"Seven  years,  great  King." 

"  And  two  months,  Tooni-ji.  Your  Highness, 
may  I  sit  down  ?  " 

"As  old  as  the  Folly."* 

"He  came  of  the  Folly,  Hazur.  His  mother 
died   by  the   sepoys  in   Cawnpore,   his  father — 

*  Native  term  for  the  Mutiny. 


i 


88 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


also,"  said  Tooni,  for  she  feared  to  be  blamed 
for  not  having  found  Sonny  Sahib's  father.  As 
she  told  the  story  once  again  to  the  Maharajah, 
adding  many  things  that  Sonny  Sahib  had  never 
heard  before,  he  became  so  much  interested  that 
he  stood  on  one  foot  for  five  minutes  at  a  time, 
and  quite  forgot  to  ask  His  Highness  again  if  he 
might  sit  down. 

The  Maharajah  heard  her  to  the  end  without 
a  word  or  a  change  of  expression.  When  she  had 
finished,  "  My  soldiers  were  not  there,"  he  said 
thoughtfully,  and  with  a  shade  of  regret,  which 
was  not,  I  fear,  at  the  thought  of  any  good  they 
might  have  done.  Then  he  seemed  to  reflect, 
while  Tooni  stood  before  him  with  her  hands 
joined  together  at  the  finger-tips,  and  her  head 
bowed. 

"Then,  without  permission,  you  brought  this 
child  of  outcasts  into  my  State,"  said  he  at  last. 
"  That  was  an  offence." 

Tooni  struck  her  forehead  with  her  hand. 

*'Your  Highness  is  my  father  and  my  moth- 


: 


•  i"**i^    «    I  ■■■ 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  39 

er  1  "  she  sobbed,   ''  I  could  not  leave  it  to  the 
jackals." 

"  You  are  a  wretched  Mussulman,  the  daugh- 
ter of  cow-killers,  and  you  may  have  known  no 
better " 

"Your  Highness!"  remarked  Sonny  Sahib, 
with  respectful  indignation,  "Adam  had  two 
sons,  one  was  buried  and  one  was  burned " 

"Choop  !  "  said  the  Maharajah  crossly.  You 
might  almost  guess  that  "  Choop  "  meant  "  Be 
quiet !  " 

"  But  it  was  an  offence,"  he  continued. 

"  Protector  of  the  poor,  I  meant  no  harm." 

"  That  is  true  talk.  And  you  shall  receive  no 
harm.  But  you  must  leave  the  boy  with  me.  I 
want  him  to  play  games  with  my  son,  to  amuse 
my  son.  For  thirty  days  my  son  has  asked  this 
of  me,  and  ten  days  ago  his  mother  died— so  he 
must  have  it." 

Tooni  salaamed  humbly.  "If  the  boy  finds 
favour  in  Your  Highnesses  eyes  it  is  very  good," 
she  said  simply,  and  turned  to  go. 


-■'■■""  -  -  -- 


40  THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 

**Stop,"  said  the  Maharajah.  "I  will  do 
justice  in  this  matter.  I  desire  the  boy,  but  I 
have  brought  his  price.      Where  is  it,  Moti.;^  f  " 

The  little  Maharajah  laughed  with  delight, 
and  drew  from  behind  him  a  jingling  bag. 

"It  is  one  hundred  and  fifty  rupees,"  said 
the  Maharajah.  *'Give  it  to  the  woman,  Moti." 
And  the  child  held  it  out  to  her. 

Tooni  looked  at  the  bag,  and  then  at  Sonny 
Sahib,  salaamed  and  hesitated.  It  was  a  pro- 
vision for  the  rest  of  her  life,  as  lives  go  in  Raj- 
putana. 

"Is  it  not  enough  % "  asked  the  Maharajah 
irritably,  while  the  little  prince's  face  fell. 

"Your  Highness,"  stammered  Tooni,  "it  is 
great  riches — may  roses  be  to  your  mouth  I  But 
I  have  a  desire — rather  than  the  money " 

"  What  is  your  desire  ? "  cried  the  little  prince. 
"Say  it.  In  a  breath  my  father  wiU  allow  it.  I 
want  the  gold-faced  one  to  come  and  play." 

The  Maharajah  nodded,  and  this  time  Tooni 
lay  down  at  the  feet  of  the  little  prince. 


/  \ 


'I  ip»  ■iui^|»in.i.i«»,«w,f»w>riip  h^j  iiiF*L"i"-"v"i'j"'"i|w»B«w  w^pww  f,tr  iM\<" 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


41 


li 


**It  is,"  said  she,  "that— I  am  a  widow  and 
old — that  I  also  may  live  in  the  farthest  corner 
within  the  court- yard  walls,  with  the  boy." 

The  Maharajah  slipped  the  bag  quickly  into 
the  pocket  of  his  blue  and  yellow  coat. 

**  It  is  a  strange  preference,"  he  said,  *'but  the 
Mussulmans  have  no  minds.     It  may  be." 

Tooni  kissed  his  feet,  and  Sonny  Sahib  nodded 
approval  at  him.  Somehow,  Sonny  Sahib  never 
could  be  taught  good  Rajput  manners. 

"The  boy  is  w^ell  grown,"  said  the  Maharajah, 
turning  upon  his  heel.     "What  is  his  name?" 

"  Protector  of  the  poor,"  answered  Tooni,  quiv- 
ering with  delight,  "his  name  is  Sonny  Sahib." 

Perhaps  nobody  has  told  you  why  the  English 
are  called  Sahibs  in  India.  It  is  because  they  rule 
there. 

The  Maharajah's  face  went  all  into  a  pucker 
of  angry  wrinkles,  and  his  eyes  shone  like  lit- 
tle coals. 

"  What  talk  is  that  ? "  he  said  angrily.  "  His 
great-grandfather  was  a  monkey  I    There  is  only 


42 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


J 


one  master  here.     Pig's  daughter,  his  name  is 

Sunni ! " 

Tooni  did  not  dare  to  say  a  word,  and  even 

the  little  prince  was  silent. 

"Look you,"  said  the  old  man  to  Sonny  Sahib. 
"  Follow  my  son,  the  Maharajah,  into  the  court- 
yard, and  there  do  his  pleasure.  Do  you  under- 
stand?   Follow  him!" 


13 

en 

ib. 
It- 
er- 


In  princely  favour. 


-" —  ■*■ -_  -M  - 


-T'TWByrirT-  i,  i)   i|.iHi  i^ivfi^ii 


! 


! 


•' 


I 


\ 


CHAPTER  V. 


"SuNNi,"  said  Moti,  as  the  two  boys  rode 
through  the  gates  of  the  courtyard  a  year  later, 
"a  man  of  your  race  has  come  here,  and  my 
father  has  permitted  him  to  remain.  My  father 
has  given  him  the  old  empty  jail  to  live  in,  behind 
the  monkey  temple.  They  say  many  curious 
things  are  in  his  house.     Let  us  ride  past  it." 

In  his  whole  life  Sunni  had  never  heard  such 
an  interesting  piece  of  news  before— even  Tooni's, 
about  the  Maharajah's  horseman,  was  nothing  to 
this.  "Why  is  he  come?"  he  asked,  putting  his 
little  red  Arab  into  a  trot. 

"To  bring  your  gods  to  the  Rajputs." 

I  "I  have  no  gods,"  declared  Sunni.     "Kali  is 

so  ugly— I  have  no  heart  for  her.     Ganesh  makes 

me  laugh,  with  his  elephant's  head;   and  Tooni 

says  that  Allah  is  not  my  God." 
4  48 


44 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


"Tooni  says,"  Sunni  went  on  reflectively, 
"  that  my  God  is  in  her  Uttle  black  book.  But  I 
have  never  seen  him." 

"Perhaps  this  Englishman  will  show  him  to 
you,"  suggested  Moti. 

"  But  His  Highness,  your  father,  will  he  allow 
strange  gods  to  be  brought  to  the  people  ? " 

"No,"  said  Moti,  "the  people  will  not  look  at 
them.  Every  one  has  been  warned.  But  the 
stranger  is  to  remain,  that  he  may  teach  me  Eng- 
lish. I  do  not  wish  to  learn  English— or  anything. 
It  is  always  so  hot  when  the  pundit  comes.  But 
my  father  wishes  it." 

A  pundit  is  a  wise  old  man  who  generally 
has  a  long  white  beard,  and  thinks  nothing  in 
the  world  is  so  enjoyable  as  Sanskrit  or  Arabic. 
Sunni,  too,  found  it  hot  when  the  pundit  came. 
But  an  English  pundit 

"Moti-/i,"  said  Sunni,  laying  his  arm  around 
the  little  prince's  neck  as  they  rode  together,  "do 
you  love  me  ?  " 

Moti  caught  Sunni's  hand  as  it  dropped  over 


li*f»W"PP«!»t|f lipilf "'i»*  W *H ««'ii!l'"^)IM;'W'l'«lW"'"' WHWLWW' I 


I, 


u 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


45 


his  shoulder.  "  You  know  that  in  my  heart  there 
is  only  my  father's  face  and  yours,  Sahib's  son," 
he  said. 

"  Will  you  do  one  thing,  then,  for  love  of  me  ? " 
asked  Sunni  eagerly.  "Will  you  ask  of  the 
Maharajah,  your  father,  that  I  also  may  learn 
English  from  the  stranger?" 

"No,"  said  Moti  mischievously,  "because  it 
is  already  spoken,  Sunni-y/.  I  said  that  I  would 
not  learn  unless  you  also  were  compelled  to  learn, 
so  that  the  time  should  not  be  lost  between  us. 
Now  let  us  gallop  very  fast  past  the  jail,  lest  the 
Englishman  should  think  we  wish  to  see  him. 
He  is  to  be  brought  to  me  to-morrow  at  sun- 
down." 

The  Englishman  at  that  moment  was  unpack- 
ing his  books  and  his  bottles,  and  thinking  about 
how  he  could  best  begin  the  work  he  had  come  to 
Lalpore  to  do.  He  was  a  medical  missionary,  and 
as  they  had  every  variety  of  disease  in  Lalpore,  and 
the  population  was  entirely  heathen,  we  may 
think  it  likely  that  he  had  too  much  on  his  mind 


46  THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAIIIB. 

to  run  to  the  window  to  see  such  very  young  roy- 
alty ride  by. 

"Sunni-//,"  said  Moti  that  afternoon  in  the 
garden,  "I  am  very  tired  of  talking  of  this  Eng- 
lishman." 

"I  could  talk  of  him  for  nine  moons,"  said 
Sunni ;  and  then  something  occurred  which 
changed  the  subject  as  completely  as  even  the 
little  prince  could  desiie.  This  was  a  garden  for 
the  pleasure  of  the  ladies  of  the  court ;  they  never 
came  out  in  it,  but  their  apartments  looked  down 
upon  it,  and  a  very  high  wall  screened  it  from  the 
rest  of  the  world.  The  Maharajah  and  Moti  and 
Sunni  were  the  only  people  who  might  ever  walk 
there.  As  the  boys  turned  at  the  end  of  a  path 
directly  under  the  gratings,  they  heard  a  soft 
voice  say  *'Moti!" 

*'That  is  Matiya,"said  the  little  prince.  "I 
do  not  like  Matiya.     What  is  it,  Matiya?" 

"  It  is  not  Matiya,"  said  the  voice  quickly,  "it 
is  Tarra.  Here  is  a  gift  from  the  heart  of  Tarra, 
little  parrot,  a  gift  for  you,  and  a  gift  for  the 


•«Nl'' 


•*(r. 


% 


A  packaye  ia  ihivwa  to  Moti. 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAIllB. 


47 


Sahib's  son  ;  also  a  sweet  cake,  but  the  cake  is  for 
Moti." 

"I  am  sure  it  was  Matiya,"  said  Moti,  run- 
ning to  pick  the  packet  out  of  the  rose-bush  it 
had  fallen  into;  "but  Matiya  was  never  kind 
before." 

The  packet  held  a  necklace  and  an  armlet. 
The  necklace  was  of  little  pearls  and  big  ame- 
thysts strung  upon  fine  wire,  three  rows  of  pearls, 
and  then  an  amethyst,  and  was  very  lovely.  The 
armlet  was  of  gold,  with  small  rubies  and  tor- 
quoises  set  in  a  pattern.  The  boys  looked  at  them 
more  or  less  indifferently.  They  had  seen  so  many 
jewels. 

"Matiya— if  you  think  it  was  Matiya— makes 
pretty  gifts,"  said  Sunni,  "and  the  Maharajah 
will  keep  your  necklace  for  you  for  ever  in  an  iron 
box.  But  this  armlet  will  get  broken  just  as  the 
other  two  armlets  that  were  given  to  me  have  got 
broken.  I  cannot  wear  armlets  and  play  polo, 
and  I  would  rather  play  polo." 

"That  is  because  you  were  clumsy,"  Moti  an- 


48 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAIIIB. 


swered.  Moti  was  peevish  that  afternoon.  The 
Maharajah  had  refused  him  a  gun,  and  he  partic- 
ularly wanted  a  gun,  not  to  shoot  anything,  but  to 
frighten  the  crows  with  and  perhaps  the  coolie- 
folk.  To  console  himself  Moti  had  eaten  twice  as 
many  sweetmeats  as  were  good  for  him,  and  was  in 
a  bad  temper  accordingly. 

*'Now  they  are  certainly  of  Tarra,  these 
jewels," exclaimed  Sunni,  "I  remember  that  neck- 
lace upon  her  neck,  for  every  time  Tarra  has 
kissed  me,  that  fifth  stone  which  has  been  broken 
in  the  cutting  has  scratched  my  face." 

*'In  one  word,"  said  Moti  imperiously,  "it 
was  the  voice  of  Matiya.  And  this  perplexes 
me,  for  Matiya,  hating  my  mother,  hates  me  also, 
I  think." 

"Why  did  she  hate  your  mother?"  asked 
Sunni. 

"How  stupid  you  are  to-day!  You  have 
heard  the  story  two  hundred  times!  Because 
she  thought  that  she  should  have  been  chosen 
to  be  queen  instead  of  my  mother.    It  is  true 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB.  49 

that  she  was  more  beautifi  \  but  my  mother 
was  a  pundita.  And  she  was  not  chosen.  She 
is  only  second  in  the  palace.  And  she  has  no 
children,  while  my  mother  was  the  mother  of  a 
king." 

**No,"  said  Sunni,  "I  never  heard  that  before, 
Moti." 

*'But  I  say  you  have  !  Two  hundred  times  ! 
And  look,  O  thoughtless  one,  you  have  gone  be- 
tween me  and  the  sun,  so  that  even  now  your 
shadow  falls  upon  my  sugar-cake— my  cake  stuffed 
with  almonds,  which  is  the  kind  I  most  love,  and 
therefore  I  cannot  eat  it.  There,"  cried  Moti,  con- 
temptuously, *'take  it  yourself  and  eat  it— you 
have  no  caste  to  break." 

For  a  minute  Sunni  was  as  angry  as  possible. 
Then  he  reflected  that  it  was  silly  to  be  angry 
with  a  person  who  was  not  very  well. 

"Listen,  Moti,"  he  said,  "that  was  indeed  a 
fault.  I  should  have  walked  to  the  north.  But  I 
will  not  eat  your  cake — let  us  give  it  to  the  red 
and  gold  fishes  in  the  fountain." 


■  '^v^ 


50  TUE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 

"Some  of  it,"  said  Moti,  appeased,  "and 
some  to  my  new  little  monkey— my  talking 
monkey." 

The  fishes  darted  up  for  the  crumbs  greedily, 
but  the  monkey  was  not  as  grateful  for  her  share 
as  she  ought  to  have  been.  She  took  it,  smelt  it, 
wiped  it  vigorously  on  the  ground,  smelt  it  again, 
and  chattered  angrily  at  the  boys  ;  then  she  went 
nimbly  hand  over  hand  to  the  very  top  of  the  ban- 
yan-tree she  lived  in ;  and  then  she  deliberately 
broke  it  into  little  pieces  and  pelted  the  givers 
with  them. 

"  She  is  not  hungry  to-day,"  said  Moti.  "  Let 
US  take  out  the  falcons." 

Next  morning  the  Maharajah  was  very  much 
annoyed  by  the  intelligence  that  all  the  little  red- 
spotted  fishes  were  floating  flabby  and  flat  and 
dead  among  the  lily  pads  of  the  fountain— there 
were  few  things  except  Moti  that  the  Maharajah 
loved  better  than  his  little  red-spotted  fishes.  He 
wanted  very  particularly  to  know  why  they  should  k 

have  died  in  this  unanimous  and  apparently  pre- 


2. 


'■m 


-1--      -'-71 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAIIIB.  51 

concerted  way.  The  gods  had  probably  killed 
them  by  lightning,  but  the  Maharajah  wanted  to 
know.  So  he  sent  for  the  Englishman,  who  did 
not  mind  touching  a  dead  thing,  and  the  English- 
man told  him  that  the  little  red-spotted  fishes  had 
undoubtedly  been  poisoned.  Moti  was  listening 
when  the  doctor  said  this. 

'*It    could    not    have    been    the    cake,"  said 
Moti. 

But  when  all  was  looked  into,  including  one  of 
the  little  fishes.  Dr.  Roberts  found  that  it  un- 
doubtedly had  been  the  cake.  Scraps  of  it  were 
still  lying  about  the  banyan-tree  to  help  him  to 
this  conclusion,  and  the  monkey  chattered  as  if 
she  could  give  evidence,  too,  if  anybody  would 
listen.  But  she  gave  evidence  enough  in  not  eat- 
ing it.  Everybody,  that  is,  everybody  in  Rajpu- 
tana,  knows  that  you  can  never  poison  a  monkey. 
The  little  prince  maintained  that  the  voice  he  heard 
was  the  voice  of  Matiya,  yet  every  one  recognized 
I  ?  •  the  jewels  to  be  Tarra's.     There  was  nothing  else 

to  go  upon,  and  the  Maharajah  decided  that  it  was 


52  THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 

impossible  to  tell  which  of  the  two  had  wickedly- 
tried  to  poison  his  eldest  son.  He  arranged, 
however,  that  they  should  both  disappear — he 
could  not  possibly  risk  a  mistake  in  the  matter. 
And  I  wish  that  had  been  the  greatest  of  the  Ma- 
harajah's injustices.  When  the  truth  came  out, 
later,  that  it  was  undoubtedly  Matiya,  the  Maha- 
rajah said  that  he  had  always  been  a  good  deal  of 
that  opinion,  and  built  a  beautiful  domed  white 
marble  tomb,  partly  in  memory  of  Tarra  and 
partly,  I  fear,  to  commemorate  his  own  sagacity, 
which  may  seem,  under  the  circumstances,  a  little 
odd. 

The  really  curious  thing  was,  however,  that 
out  of  it  all  came  honour  and  glory  for  Sunni. 
For  what,  asked  the  Maharajah,  had  prevented 
the  poisoning  of  his  son  ?  What  but  the  shadow 
of  Sunni,  which  fell  upon  the  cake,  so  that  Moti 
could  not  eat  it !  Therefore,  without  doubt,  Sun- 
ni had  saved  the  life  of  a  king  ;  and  he  could 
ask  nothing  that  should  not  be  granted  to  him  ; 
he  should  stand  always  near  the  throne.    Sunni 


f 


-^P^WP)II4OT'JUWWRN)> 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  53 

felt  very  proud  and  important,  he  did  not  know 
exactly  why  ;  but  he  could  not  think  of  any- 
thing he  wanted,  except  to  learn  his  own  lan- 
guage from  the  Englishman. 

"Oh,  foolish  bargainer!"  cried  Moti,  **when 
you  know  that  has  been  given  already  !  " 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Dr.  Roberts,  who  lived,  by  the  Maharajah's 
kind  permission,  in  the  jail  behind  the  monkey 
temple,  soon  found  himself  in  rather  an  awkward 
dilemma.  Not  in  regard  to  the  monkeys.  They 
were  certainly  troublesome.  They  stole  his  bis- 
cuits, and  made  holes  in  his  roof,  and  tore  up 
the  reports  he  wrote  for  the  S.  P.  C.  K.  in  Eng- 
land. Dr.  Roborts  made  allowance  for  the  mon- 
keys, however.  He  had  come  to  take  away  their 
sacred  character,  and  nobody  could  expect  them 
to  like  it.  If  you  had  asked  Dr.  Roberts  what 
his  difficulty  was  he  would  have  shown  you 
Sonny  Sahib.  The  discovery  was  so  wonderful 
that  he  had  made.  He  had  found  a  yellow- 
haired,  blue-eyed  English  boy  in  a  walled  palace 
of  Rajputana,  five  hundred  miles  from  any  one  of 
his  race.    The  boy  was  happy,  healthy,  and  well 

54 


'■-M 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  55 

content.  That  mucli  the  Maharajah  had  pointed 
out  to  him  ;  that  much  he  could  see  for  himself. 
Beyond  that  the  Maharajah  had  discouraged  Dr. 
Koberts'  interest.  The  boy's  name  was  Sunni,  he 
had  no  other  name,  he  had  come  ''  under  the  pro- 
tection" of  the  Maharajah  when  he  was  very 
young ;  and  that  wu,  all  His  Highness  could  be 
induced  to  say.  Any  more  pointed  inquiries  he 
was  entirely  unable  to  understand.  There  seemed 
to  be  no  one  else  who  knew.  Tooni  could  have 
told  him,  but  Tooni  was  under  orders  that  she  did 
not  dare  to  disobey.  In  the  bazar  two  or  three 
conflicting  stories,  equally  wonderful,  were  told  of 
Sunni  ;  but  none  that  Dr.  Roberts  could  believe. 
In  the  end  he  found  out  about  Sunni  from  Sunni 
himself,  who  had  never  forgotten  one  word  of 
what  Tooni  told  the  Maharajah.  Sunni  men- 
tioned also,  with  considerable  pride,  that  he  had 
known  three  English  words  for  a  long  time— 
*'  wass  "  and  "  hruss  "  and  **  isstocJdn.''^ 

Then  Dr.  Roberts,  with  his  heart  full  of  the 
awful  grief  of  the  Mutiny,   and   thinking  how 


T- 


66 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


gladly  this  waif  and  stray  would  be  received  by 
somebody,  hurried  to  the  Maharajah,  and  begged 
that  the  boy  might  be  given  back  to  his  own 
people,  that  he,  Dr.  Roberts,  might  take  him 
back  to  his  own  people  at  his  personal  risk  and 
expense  ;  that  inquiries  might  at  least  be  set  on 
foot  to  find  his  relatives. 

*'Yes,"  said  the  Maharajah,  "but  not  yet, 
ee-Wobbis.  The  boy  will  be  well  here  for  a  year, 
and  you  shall  teach  him.  At  the  end  of  that 
time  we  will  speak  again  of  this  matter." 

Dr.  Roberts  was  not  satisfied.  He  asked  the 
Maharajah  at  all  events  to  allow  Sunni  to  live 
with  him  in  his  empty  jail,  but  Ilis  Highness  re- 
fused absolutely. 

"And  look  you,  ee-Wobbis,"  said  he,  "I  have 
promised  the  ^Viceroy  in  Calcutta  that  you  shall 
be  safe  in  my  country,  and  you  shall  be  safe, 
though  I  never  asked  you  to  come  here.  But  if 
any  khaber  goes  to  Calcutta  about  this  boy,  and 
if  there  is  the  least  confusion  regarding  him,  your 
mouth  shall  be  stopped,  and  you  shall  not  talk 


I 


! 

THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SADIB.  57 

any  more  to  my  people.  For  my  part,  I  do  not 
like  your  medicines,  and  you  have  not  yet  cured 
Proteb  Singh  of  his  short  leg  ;  he  goes  as  lame  as 
ever !  " 

This  was  Dr.  Roberts'  difficulty  ;  his  mouth 
would  be  stopped.  He  did  not  doubt  the  Maha- 
rajah. If  he  wrote  to  Calcutta  that  a  Bajput 
prince  still  held  a  hostage  from  the  Mutiny,  and 
made  a  disturbance,  there  would  be  an  end  to 
the  work  he  had  begun  under  the  shadow  of  the 
palace  wall.  And  the  work  was  prospering  so 
well !  Tlie  people  were  listening  now,  Dr. 
Roberts  thought,  and  certainly  he  had  been  able 
to  relieve  a  great  deal  of  their  physical  misery. 
Would  he  be  justified  in  writing  to  Calcutta? 
Dr.  Roberts  thought  about  it  very  long  and  very 
seriously.  In  the  end  he  believed  that  he  would 
not  be  justified,  at  least  until  the  year  was  over 
of  which  the  Maharajah  spoke.  Then  if  His 
Highness  did  not  keep  his  promise,  Dr.  Roberts 
would  see  about  it. 

So  the  year  went  by  ;  the  months  when  the 


68 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


sun  blazed  straight  across  the  sky  overhead,  and 
everybody  slept  at  noonday — the  months  when  a 
gray  sheet  of  rain  hung  from  the  clouds  for  days 
together,  and  the  months  when  all  the  Maha- 
rajah's dominions  were  full  of  splendid  yellow 
lights  and  pleasant  winds — when  the  teak  wood 
trees  dropped  their  big  dusty  leaves,  and  the 
nights  were  sharply  cold,  and  Rajputana  pre- 
tended that  it  was  winter.  Dr.  Roberts  and 
Sunni  were  very  well  then,  but  Moti  shrivelled 
up  and  coughed  the  day  through,  and  the  Ma- 
harajah, when  he  went  out  to  drive,  wrapped 
himself  up  in  cashmere  shawls,  head  and  ears 
and  all. 

The  boys  learnt  as  much  English  as  could  pos- 
sibly be  expected  of  them  ;  Sunni  learnt  more, 
because  Dr.  Roberts  made  it  a  point  that  he 
should.  Besides,  he  became  a  great  friend  of  Dr. 
Roberts,  who  began  by  begging  that  Sunni  might 
be  allowed  to  ride  with  him,  then  to  drive  with 
him,  and  finally  to  spend  two  or  three  days  at  a 
time  with  him.     Sunni  had  more  to  learn  than 


TOE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  59 

Moti  had.     He  had  a  good  many  things  to  forget, 
too,  which  gave  him  almost  as  much  trouble. 

The  Maharajah  found  it  as  difficult  as  ever  to 
like  ee-Wobbis's  medicines,  but  he  considered 
them  excellent  for  Moti's  cough,  and  only  com- 
plained that  his  son  should  be  given  so  little  of 
them.  The  royal  treasury  would  pay  for  a  whole 
bottle — why  should  the  little  prince  get  only  a 
spoonful  ?  Nevertheless  Dr.  Roberts  stood  well 
in  the  estimation  of  the  Maharajah,  who  arranged 
that  a  great  many  things  should  be  done  as  the 
missionary  suggested.  In  one  case  the  Maha- 
rajah had  the  palace  well,  the  oldest  palace  well, 
cleaned  out — a  thing  that  nobody  had  ever 
thought  of  before  ;  and  he  was  surprised  to  find 
what  was  at  the  bottom  of  it.  Dr.  Roberts  ad- 
vised putting  down  a  few  drains  too,  and  making 
a  road  from  the  city  of  the  Maharajah  to  the 
great  highways  that  led  to  the  Viceroy's  India. 
The  Maharajah  laid  the  drains,  and  said  he 
would  think  about  the  road.  Then  Dr.  Roberts 
suggested  that  a  hospital  would  be  a  good  thing, 

5 


•^r 


f 


60  THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 

and  the  Maharajah  said  he  would   think  about 
that  too. 

Sunni  was  growing  fast ;  he  was  too  tall  and 
thin  for  nine  years  old.  Dr.  Roberts  took  anx- 
ious care  of  him,  thinking  of  the  unknown  grand- 
father and  grandmother  in  England,  and  how  he 
could  best  tell  them  of  this  boy  of  theirs,  who 
read  Urdu  better  than  English,  and  wore  em- 
broidered slippers  turned  squarely  up  at  the  toes, 
and  asked  such  strange  .  questions  about  his 
father's  God.  But  when  he  taxed  the  Maha- 
rajah with  his  promise,  Ilis  Highness  simply  re- 
peated, in  somewhat  more  amiable  terms,  his 
answer  of  the  year  before.  And  the  work  was 
now  prospering  more  than  ever.  When  once  he 
had  got  the  hospital.  Dr.  Roberts  made  up  his 
mind  that  he  would  take  definite  measures ;  but 
he  would  get  the  hospital  first. 


I 


CHAPTER  VII. 

I  SUPPOSE  it  was  about  that  time  that  Suiji 
Rao  began  to  consider  whether  it  was  after  all  for 
the  best  interests  of  the  State  that  ee-Wobbis 
should  remain  in  it.  Surji  Rao  was  first  Minister 
to  the  Maharajah,  and  a  very  important  person. 
He  had  charge  of  the  Treasury,  and  it  was  his 
business  to  produce  every  day  one  hundred  fresh 
rupees  to  put  into  it.  This  was  his  duty,  and 
whether  the  harvests  had  been  good  and  the  cat- 
tle many,  or  whether  the  locusts  and  the  drought 
had  made  the  people  poor,  Surji  Rao  did  his 
duty.  If  ever  he  should  fail,  there  hung  a  large 
and  heavy  shoe  upon  the  wall  of  the  Maharajah's 
apartment,  which  daily  suggested  personal  chas- 
tisement and  a  possible  loss  of  dignity  to  Surji 
Rao. 

Dr.    Roberts   was   making   serious   demands 

61 


.  LI 


n 


62 


THE  STORY   OP  SONNY  SAEIB. 


upon  the  Treasury,  and  proposed  to  make  others 
more  serious  still.  Worse  than  that,  he  was  sup- 
planting Surji  Rao  in  the  confidence  and  affection 
of  the  Maharajah.  Worse  still,  he  was  making  a 
pundit  of  that  outcast  boy,  who  had  been  already 
too  much  favoured  in  the  palace,  so  that  he 
might  very  well  grow  up  to  be  Minister  of  the 
Treasury  instead  of  Rasso,  son  of  Surji  Rao— a 
thing  unendurable.  Surji  Rao  was  the  fattest 
man  in  the  State,  so  fat  that  it  was  said  he  sat 
down  only  twice  a  day  ;  but  he  lay  awake  on 
sultry  nights  for  so  many  weeks  reflecting  upon 
this,  that  he  grew  obviously,  almost  ostenta- 
tiously, thin.  To  this  he  added  such  an  ex- 
tremely dolorous  expression  of  countenance  that 
it  was  impossible  for  the  Maharajah,  out  of  sheer 
curiosity,  to  refrain  from  asking  him  what  was 
the  matter. 

"  My  father  and  my  mother !  I  grow  poor 
with  thinking  that  the  feet  of  strangers  are  in 
the  palace  of  the  King,  and  what  may  come 
of  it." 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


G3 


The  Maharajah  laughed  and  put  his  arm 
about  the  shoulders  of  Surji  Rao. 

*'I  will  give  you  a  tub  of  melted  butter  to 
grow  fat  upon  again,  and  two  days  to  eat  it, 
though  indeed  with  less  on  your  bones  you  were 
a  better  Rajput.  What  should  come  of  it,  Surji 
Rao  ? " 

Thp  Minister  sheathed  the  anger  that  leapt 
up  behind  his  eyes  in  a  smile.  Then  he  answered 
gravely — 

*' What  should  come  of  it  but  more  strangers? 
Is  it  not  desired  to  make  a  road  for  their  guns 
and  their  horses?  And  talk  and  treaties,  and 
tying  of  the  hand  and  binding  of  the  foot,  until 
at  last  that  great  Jan  Larrens  *  himself  will  ride 
up  to  the  gate  of  the  city  and  refuse  to  go  away 
until  Your  Highness  sends  a  bag  of  gold  mohurs 
to  the  British  Raj,  as  he  has  done  before." 

"I  do  not  think  I  will  make  the  road,"  said 
the  Maharajah  reflectively. 


*  John  Lawrence,  aftervrards  Lord  Laurence  and  Viceroy  of 
India. 


e4  THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 

"  King,  you  are  the  wisest  of  men,  rnd  there- 
fore your  own  best  counsellor.  It  is  well  decided. 
But  the  Rajputs  are  all  sons  of  one  father,  and 
even  now  there  is  grief  among  the  chief  of  them 
that  outcasts  should  be  dwelling  in  the  King's 
favour." 

"I  will  not  make  the  road,"  said  the  Mahara- 
jah.    ''Enough!" 

Surji  Rao  thought  it  was  not  quite  enough, 
however,  and  took  various  means  to  obtain  more, 
means  that  would  never  be  thought  of  anywhere 
but  in  countries  where  the  sun  beats  upon  the 
plots  of  Ministers  and  ferments  fanaticism  in  the 
heads  of  the  people.  He  talked  to  the  Rajput 
r'liets,  and  persuaded  them — they  were  not  difficult 
to  persuade — that  Dr.  Roberts  was  an  regent  and  a 
spy  of  the  English  Government  at  Calcutta,  that 
his  medicines  were  a  sham.  When  it  was  neces- 
sary, Surji  Rao  said  that  the  medicines  were  a 
slow  form  of  poison,  but  generally  he  said  they 
were  a  sham.  He  persuaded  as  many  of  the  chiefs 
as  dared,  to  remonstrate  with  the  Maharajah,  and 


: 


Doctor  Robcrttis  enemy. 


J  J^I'VV'W  lllMli 


TEE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB.  (35 

to  follow  his  example  of  going  about  looking  as  if 
they  were  upon  the  brink  of  some  terrible  disaster. 
Surji  Rao's  wife  was  a  clever  woman,  and  she  ar- 
ranged such  a  feeling  in  the  Maharajah's  zenana, 
that  one  day  as  Dr.  Roberts  passed  along  a  corridor 
to  His  Ilighness's  apartment,  a  curtain  opened 
swiftly,  and  some  one  in  the  dark  behind  spat  at 
him.  Amongst  them  they  managed  to  make  His 
Highness  extremely  uncomfortable.  But  the  old 
man  continued  to  decline  obstinately  to  send  the 
missionary  back. 

Then  it  became  obvious  to  Surji  Rao  that  Dr. 
Roberts  must  be  disposed  of  otherwise.  He  went 
about  that  in  the  same  elaborate  and  ingenious 
way.  His  arrangements  required  time,  but  there 
is  always  plenty  of  time  in  Rajputana.  He  be- 
came friendly  with  Dr.  Roberts,  and  encouraged 
the  hospital.  He  did  not  wish  in  any  way  to  be 
complicat(?d  v/ith  his  arrangements.  Nobody  else 
became  friendly.  Surji  Rao  took  care  of  that. 
And  at  last  one  mijrning  a  report  went  like  wild- 
fire about  the  palace  and  the  city  that  the  mis- 


6Q 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAUIB. 


sionary  had  killed  a  sacred  bull,  set  free  in  honour 
of  Krishna  at  the  birth  of  a  son  to  Maun  Rao,  the 
chief  of  the  Maharajah's  generals.  Certainly  the 
bull  was  found  slaughtered  behind  the  monkey 
temple,  and  certainly  Dr.  Roberts  had  beefsteak 
for  breakfast  that  day.  Such  a  clamour  rang 
through  the  palace  about  it  that  the  Maharajah 
sent  for  the  missionary,  partly  to  inquire  into  the 
matter,  and  partly  with  a  view  to  protect  him. 

It  was  very  unsatisfactory — the  missionary  did 
not  know  how  the  bull  came  to  be  killed  behlrd 
his  house,  and,  in  spite  of  all  the  Maharajah's 
hints,  would  not  invent  a  story  to  account  for  it. 
The  Maharajah  could  have  accounted  for  it  fifty 
times  over,  if  it  had  happened  to  him.  Besides, 
Dr.  Roberts  freely  admitted  having  breakfasted 
upon  beefsteak,  and  didn't  know  where  it  had 
come  from !  He  rode  home  through  an  angry 
crowd,  and  nobody  at  all  came  for  medicines  that 
day. 

Two  days  later  the  Rajput  general's  baby  died 
—could  anything  else  have  been  expected  ?    The 


I 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  67 

general  went  straight  to  the  Maharajah  to  ask  for 
vengeance,  but  His  Highness,  knowing  why  the 
chief  had  come,  sent  word  that  he  was  ill — he 
would  see  Maun  Rao  to-morrow.  To-morrow  he 
had  not  recovered,  nor  even  the  day  after ;  but  in 
the  meantime  he  had  been  well  enough  to  send 
word  to  Dr.  Roberts  that  if  he  wished  to  go  away 
he  should  have  two  camels  and  an  escort.  Dr. 
Roberts  sent  to  ask  whether  Sunni  might  go  with 
him,  but  to  this  the  Maharajah  replied  by  an  abso- 
lute "No." 

So  the  missionary  stayed. 

It  was  Surji  Rao  who  brought  the  final  word 
to  the  Maharajah. 

"My  father  and  my  mother!  "  he  said,  "it  is 
no  longer  possible  to  hold  the  people  back.  It  is 
cried  abroad  that  this  English  hakkim  *  has  given 
the  people  powder  of  pig's  feet.  Even  now  they 
have  set  upon  his  house.  And  to-day  is  the  fes- 
tival of  Krishna.  My  heart  is  bursting  with 
grief. " 

*  Doctor. 


68 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


*'If  Maun  Rao  strikes,  I  can  do  nothing,"  said 
the  Maharajah  weakly.  ''  He  thinks  the  English- 
man killed  hia  son.  But  look  you,  send  Sunni  to 
me.  lie  saved  mine.  And  I  tell  you,"  said  the 
Maharajah,  looking  at  Surji  Rao  fiercely  with  his 
sunken  black  eyes,  "  not  so  much  of  his  blood 
shall  be  shed  as  would  stain  a  moth's  wing." 

But  Maun  Rao  struck,  and  the  people  being 
told  that  the  missionary  was  dead,  went  home 
hoiking  that  Krishna  had  nothing  more  against 
them  ;  they  had  done  what  they  could. 

As  to  Sunni  he  told  his  grief  to  Tooni  because 
it  comforted  him,  and  went  into  mourning  for  nine 
days  in  defiance  of  public  opinion,  because  he 
owed  it  to  the  memory  of  a  countryman.  Ho  be- 
gan, too,  to  take  long  restless  rambles  beyond  the 
gates,  and  once  he  asked  Tooni  if  she  knew  the 
road  to  Calcutta. 

"It  is  fifty  thousand  miles,"  said  Tooni,  who 
had  an  imagination ;  ''and  the  woods  are  full  of 
tigers." 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

The  gates  of  Lalpore  were  shut,  and  all  about 
her  walls  the  yellow  sandy  plains  stretched  silent 
and  empty.  There  did  not  seem  to  be  so  much  as 
a  pariah  dog  outside.  Some  pipal- trees  looked 
over  the  walls,  and  a  couple  of  very  antiquated 
cannon  looked  through  them,  but  nothing  stirred. 
It  made  a  splendid  picture  at  broad  noon,  the 
blue  sky  and  the  old  red-stone  city  on  her  little 
hill,  holding  up  her  minarets  and  the  white  marble 
bubbles  of  her  temples,  and  then  the  yellow  sand 
drifting  up;  but  one  could  not  look  at  it  long. 
Colonel  Starr,  from  the  door  of  his  tent,  half  a 
mile  away,  had  looked  at  it  pretty  steadily  for 
two  hours,  so  steadily  that  his  eyes,  red  and 
smarting  with  the  dust  of  a  two  hundred  mile 
ride,  watered  copiously,  and  made  him  several  de- 
grees more  uncomfortable  than  he  had  been  be- 
fore. 


70  THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 

I  doubt  whether  any  idea  of  the  beauty  of  Lal- 
pore  had  a  place  in  the  Colonel's  mind,  it  was  so 
full  of  other  considerations.  He  thought  more, 
probably,  of  the  thickness  of  its  walls  than  of 
their  colour,  and  speculated  longer  upon  the 
position  of  the  arsenal  than  upon  the  curves  of  the 
temples.  Because,  in  the  Colonel's  opinion,  it  had 
come  to  look  very  like  lighting.  In  the  opinion 
of  little  Lieutenant  Pink  the  fighting  should  have 
been  over  and  done  with  yesterday,  and  the  17th 
Midlanders  should  be  "bagging"  the  Maharajah's 
artillery  by  now.  Little  Lieutenant  Pink  was 
spoiling  for  the  fray.  So  were  the  men,  most  of 
them.  They  wanted  a  change  of  diet.  Thomas 
Jones,  sergeant,  entirely  expressed  the  sentiments 
of  his  company  when  he  said  that  somebody  ort  to 
pay  up  for  this  blessed  march,  they  'adn't  wore  the 
skins  off  their  'eels  fer  two  'undred  mile  to  admire 
the  bloomin'  scenery.  Besides,  for  Thomas 
Jones's  part  he  was  tired  of  living  on  this  yere 
bloomin'  tinned  rock,  he  wanted  a  bit  of  fresh 
roast  kid  and  a  Lalpore  curry. 


:3lvv 


I 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAUIB.  71 

Colonel  Starr  had  been  sent  to  "arrange,"  if 
possible,  and  to  light  if  necessary.  Perhaps  we 
need  not  inquire  into  the  arrangements  the 
Grovernment  had  commissioned  Colonel  Starr  to 
make.  They  were  arrangements  of  a  kind  fre- 
quently submitted  to  the  princes  of  independent 
States  in  India  wlien  they  are  troublesome,  and 
their  result  is  that  a  great  many  native  States  are 
governed  by  English  political  residents,  while  a 
great  many  native  princes  attend  parties  at 
Government  House  in  Calcutta.  Tlie  Maharajah 
of  Chita  had  been  very  troublesome  indeed. 
Twice  in  the  year  his  people  had  raided  peaceful 
villages  under  British  protection,  and  now  he  had 
killed  a  missionary.  It  was  quite  time  to 
*'  arrange  "  the  Maharajah  of  Chita,  and  Colonel 
Starr,  with  two  guns  and  three  hundred  troops, 
had  been  sent  to  do  it. 

His  Highness,  however,  seemed  indisposed  to 
further  his  social  prospects  in  Calcutta  and  the 
good  of  his  State.  For  the  twenty- four  hours 
they  had  been  in  camp  under  his  walls  the  Maha- 


72 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAIIIB. 


rajah  had  taken  no  more  notice  of  Colonel  Starr 
and  his  three  hundred  Midlanders  than  if  they 
represented  so  many  jungle  bushes.  To  all 
Colonel  Starr's  messages,  diplomatic,  argumenta- 
tive, threatening,  there  had  come  the  same  un- 
satisfactory response— the  Maharajah  of  Chita 
had  no  word  to  say  to  the  British  Raj.  And 
still  the  gates  were  shut,  and  still  only  the  pipal- 
trees  looked  over  the  wall,  and  only  the  cannon 
looked  through. 

By  the  time  evening  came  Colonel  Starr  was  at 
the  end  of  his  patience.  He  was  not,  unfor- 
tunately, simultaneously  at  the  end  of  his  inves- 
tigations. He  did  not  yet  know  the  position  or 
the  contents  of  the  arsenal,  the  defensibility  of 
the  walls,  the  water  supply,  or  the  number  of 
men  under  arms  in  that  silent,  impassive  red  city 
on  the  hill.  The  reports  of  the  peasantry  had 
been  contradictory,  and  this  ordinary  means  of 
ascertaining  these  things  had  failed  him,  while  he 
very  particularly  required  to  know  them,  his  force 
being  small.    The  Government  had  assured  Colo- 


I 


'^miniyv'^r^^Ffmm'^r'WWli   w»ijipt^"w^^^ 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAIIIB.  73 

nel  Starr  that  the  Maharajah  of  Chita  would  be 
easy  to  arrange  ;  that  he  was  a  tractable  person, 
and  that  half  the  usual  number  of  troops  would 
be  ample,  which  made  Ilis  Highness's  conduct,  if 
anything,  more  annoying.  And  Colonel  Starr's 
commissariat,  even  in  respect  to  "  tinned  rock,'* 
had  not  been  supplied  with  the  expectation  of  be- 
sieging Lalpore.  The  attack  would  be  uncertain, 
and  the  Colonel  hesitated  the  more  because  his 
instructions  had  been  not  to  take  the  place  if  he 
could  avoid  it.  So  the  commanding  officer  paced 
his  tent,  and  composed  fresh  messages  to  the 
Maharajah,  while  Lieutenant  Pink  wondered  in 
noble  disgust  whether  the  expedition  was  going 
to  end  in  moonshine  after  all,  and  Thomas  Jones, 
sergeant,  remarked  hourly  to  his  fellow-privates, 
*'  The  17th  'aint  come  two  'undred  miles  for  this 
kind  of  a  joke.  The  bioomin'  Maharajer  'uU 
think  we've  got  a  funk  on." 

But  neither  Colonel  Starr  nor  Thomas  Jones 
was  acquainted  with  the  reason  of  the  remarkable 
attitude  of  Lalpore. 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 


74 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


A  week  before,  when  the  news  reached  him 
that  the  Viceroy  was  sending  three  hundred  men 
and  two  guns  to  remonstrate  with  him  for  his 
treatment  of  Dr.  Roberts,  the  Maharajah  smiled, 
thinking  of  the  bravery  of  his  Chitans,  the 
strength  of  his  fortifications,  the  depth  of  hla 
walls,  and  the  wheat  stored  in  his  city  granaries. 
No  one  had  ever  taken  Lalpore  since  the  Chitans 
took  it  —  in  all  Rajputana  there  were  none  so 
cunning  and  so  br^^ve  as  the  Chitans.  As  to 
bravery,  greater  than  Rajput  bravery  simply  did 
not  exist.  The  Maharajah  held  a  council,  and 
they  all  sported  with  the  idea  of  English  soldiers 
coming  to  Lalpore.  Maun  Rao  begged  to  go  out 
and  meet  them  to  avenge  the  insult. 

"Maharajah,"  said  he,  "the  Chitans  are  suffi- 
cient against  the  world  ;  why  should  we  speak  of 
four  hundred  monkeys'  grandsons  ?  If  the  sky 
fell,  our  heads  would  be  pillars  to  protect  you ! " 

And  after  a  long  discussion  the  Maharajah 
agreed  to  Maun  Rao's  proposal.  The  English 
could  come  only  one  way.    A  day's  march  from 


t^'^^^"1^'»lf.')W^'  "  ■,  t  ^'     J-^'  '".f  ' 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAIIIB. 


To 


Lalpore    they   would    be    compelled    to    ford  a 
stream.     There  the  Maharajah's  army  would  meet 
them,  ready,  as  Maun  Rao  said  in  the  council,  to 
play  at  ball  with  their  outcast  heads.     There  was 
a  feast  afterwards,   and  everybody  had  twice  as 
much  opium  as  usual.     In  the  midst  of  the  rev- 
elry they  made  a  great  calculation  of  resources. 
The  Maharajah  smOed  again  as  he  thought  of  the 
temerity  of  the  English  in  connection  with  the  ten 
thousand  rounds  of  ammunition  that  had  just 
come  to  him  on  camel  back  through  Afghanistan 
from  Russia— it  was  a  lucky  and  timely  purchase. 
Surji  Rao,  Minister  of  the  Treasury,  when  this 
was  mentioned,   did   not  smile.     Surji  Rao  had 
bought  the  cartridges  at  a  very  large  discount, 
which  did  not  appear  in  the  bill,  and  he  knew 
that  not  even  Chitan  valour  could  make  more 
than  one  in  ten  of  them  go  off.     Therefore,  when 
the  Maharajah  congratulated  Surji  Rao  upon  his 
foresight   in  urging    the    replenishment    of    the 
arsenal  at  this  particular  t.'me,  Surji  Rao  found  it 
very  difficult  to  congratulate  himself. 

6 


76 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


It  all  came  out  the  day  before  the  one  fixed 
for  the  expedition.  His  Highness,  being  in  great 
spirits,  had  ordered  a  shooting  competition,  and 
the  men  were  served  from  the  new  stores  supplied 
to  the  State  of  Chita  by  Petroif  Gortschakin  of 
St.  Petersburg.  The  Maharajah  drove  out  to  the 
ranges  to  look  on,  and  all  his  Ministers  with 
him.  All,  that  is,  except  the  Minister  of  the 
Treasury,  who  begged  to  be  excused ;  he  was  so 
very  unwell. 

Some  of  the  men  knel*-  and  clicked  and  re- 
loaded half  a  dozen  times  before  they  could  fire  ; 
some  were  luckier,  and  fired  the  first  time  or  the 
third  without  reloading.  They  glanced  suspi- 
ciously at  one  another  and  hesitated,  while  there 
grew  a  shining  heap  of  unexploded  cartridges,  a 
foot  hig^^,  under  the  Maharajah's  very  nose.  His 
Highness  looked  on  stupefied  for  ten  minutes, 
then  burst  into  blazing  wrath.  Maun  Rao  rode 
madly  about  examining,  inquiring,  threatening. 
"Our  cartridges  are  filled  with  powdered 
charcoal,"  he  cried,  smiting  one  of  them  between 


if'WWui"  W'lWWMIffW^ 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


77 


I 


two  stones  to  prove  his  words.  There  was  an  un- 
expected noise,  and  the  noble  General  jumped 
into  the  air,  bereft  of  the  largest  half  of  his  curled 
moustache.  That  one  was  not.  Then  they  all 
went  furiously  back  to  the  palace.  The  only 
other  incident  of  that  day  which  it  is  worth  our 
while  to  chronicle  is  connected  with  Surji  Rao 
and  the  big  shoe.  The  big  shoe  was  administered 
to  Surji  Rao  by  a  man  of  low  caste,  in  presence  of 
the  entire  court  and  as  many  of  the  people  of 
Lalpore  as  chose  to  come  and  look  on.  It  was 
very  thoroughly  administered,  and  afterwards 
Surji  Rao  was  put  formally  outside  the  city 
gates  and  told  that  the  king  desired  never  to  look 
upon  his  black  face  again.  Which  was  rubbing 
it  in  rather  unfairly,  as  His  Highness's  own  com- 
plexion was  precisely  the  same  shade.  With 
great  promptitude  Surji  Rao  took  the  road  to 
meet  the  English  and  sell  his  information,  but 
this  possibility  occurred  to  the  Maharajah  soon 
enough  to  send  men  after  him  to  frustrate  it. 
*'  There  shall  be  at  least  enough   sound  car- 


tinMuqiw.ii  jupii|fifiji|ipiiji|i,iiiH> Mi|iii.i|||^..i;)fif  jiipnvfinip^qpmnxr 


78 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


tridges  in  his  bargain  for  that,"  said  His  High- 
ness grimly. 

The  Chitan  spirit  did  not  flourish  quite  so 
vain-gloriously  at  the  council  that  night,  and 
there  was  no  more  talk  about  the  sky  falling 
upon  dauntless  Chitan  heads.  The  sky  had 
fallen,  and  the  effect  was  rather  quenching  than 
otherwise.  The  previous  stores  were  counted 
over,  and  it  w^as  found  that  the  men  could  not  be 
served  with  three  rounds  apiece  out  of  them. 
When  this  was  announced,  nobody  thought  of 
doubting  the  wisdom  of  the  Maharajah's  decision 
to  shut  up  the  gates  of  the  city,  and  trust  to  the 
improbability  of  the  English  venturing  to  attack 
him  in  such  small  numbers,  not  knowing  his  re- 
sources. So  that  very  night,  lest  any  word 
should  go  abroad  of  the  strait  of  the  warriors  of 
Chita,  the  gates  were  shut.  But  all  the  city 
knew.    Moti  knew.     Sanni  knew. 

Two  days  later,  Moti  and  Sunni  heard  the 
English  bugles  half  a  mile  away.  They  were 
playing  "  Weel  may  the  keel  row  I  "  the  regi- 


■«W^Wt>»"».'" 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  79 

mental  marcli-past,  as  Colonel  Starr's  Midlanders 
did  the  last  half  mile  to  their  camping-ground. 
The  boys  were  in  the  courtyard  among  the  horses, 
and  Sunni  dropped  the  new  silver  bit  he  was 
looking  at,  held  up  his  head,  and  listened.  He 
was  the  same  yellow-haired,  blue-eyed  Sunni, 
considerably  tanned  by  the  fierce  winds  of  Raj- 
putana  ;  but  there  came  a  brightness  over  his  face 
as  he  listened,  that  had  not  been  there  since  he 
was  a  very  little  boy. 

*'How  beautiful  the  music  is!"  said  he  to 
Moti. 

Moti  put  his  fingers  in  his  ears. 

"  It  is  horrible,"  he  cried.  '*  It  screams  and  it 
rushes.  How  can  they  be  able  to  make  it?  I 
shall  tell  my  father  to  have  it  stopped." 

Presently  the  bugles  stopped  of  themselves, 
and  Moti  forgot  about  them,  but  the  brightness 
did  not  go  out  of  Sunni's  face,  and  all  day  long 
he  went  about  humming  the  air  of  ^' Weel  may 
the  keel  row,"  with  such  variations  as  might  be 
expected.    He  grew  very  thoughtful  toward  even- 


!f    I 


80 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


ing,  but  his  eyes  shone  brighter  than  any  sap- 
phires in  the  Maharajah's  iron  boxes.  As  to  an 
old  Mahomedan  woman  from  Rubbulgurh  who 
cooked  her  chupatties  alone  and  somewhat  de- 
spised, she  heard  the  march-past  too,  and  was 
troubled  all  day  long  with  the  foolish  idea  that 
the  captain-sahib  would  presently  come  in  to  tea, 
and  would  ask  her,  Tooni,  where  the  memsahib 
was. 


i 


Sonny^s  hand  trembled  as  he  took  it. 


lp^lHMBj|Pi|Bll^     iM  %^yni\v     V       f^    «<a 


CHAPTER  IX. 


m  ■.3'' 


Irt 


,. 


SuNNi  had  his  own  room  in  the  palace,  a  little 
square  place  with  a  high  white  wall  and  a  table 
and  chair  in  it,  which  Dr.  Roberts  had  given  him. 
The  table  held  his  books,  his  pen  and  ink  and 
paper.  There  was  a  charpoy  in  one  corner,  and 
under  the  charpoy  a  locked  box.  There  were  no 
windows,  and  the  narrow  door  opened  into  a  pas- 
sage that  ran  abruptly  into  a  wall,  a  few  feet 
farther  on.  So  nobody  saw  Sunni  when  he  car- 
ried his  chirar/,  his  little  chimneyless,  smoking 
tin  lamp,  into  his  room,  and  set  it  in  a  niche  on 
the  wall,  took  off  his  shoes,  and  threw  himself 
down  on  his  charpoy  at  eleven  o'clock  that  night. 
For  a  long  time  he  had  been  listening  to  the  bul- 
buls,  the  nightingales,  in  the  garden,  and  think- 
ing of  this  moment.  Now  it  had  come,  and  Sunni 
quivered  and  throbbed  all  over  with  excitement. 

81 


82 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAIIIB. 


He  lay  very  still,  though,  on  the  watch  for  foot- 
steps, whispers,  breathings  in  the  passage.  Four 
years  in  the  palace  had  taught  Sunni  what  these 
things  meant.  He  lay  still  for  more  than  two 
hours. 

At  last,  very  quietly,  Sunni  lifted  himself  up 
by  his  elbows,  put  first  one  leg,  and  then  the  other, 
out  of  the  charpoy,  and  got  up.  More  quietly 
still  he  drew  the  locked  box  from  under  the  bed, 
took  a  key  from  his  pocket,  and  opened  it.  The 
key  squeaked  in  the  wood,  and  Sunni  paused 
again  for  a  long  time,  listening.  Then  in  the 
smoky,  uncertain  light  of  the  chirag  flaring  in  the 
niche,  he  took  from  the  box  three  gold  bangles, 
two  broken  armlets,  enamelled  in  red  and  blue, 
and  a  necklace  of  pearls  with  green  enamelled 
pendants.  Last,  he  drew  out  a  little  sword  with 
rubies  set  in  the  hilt.  For  an  instant  Sunni  hesi- 
tated ;  the  ornaments  were  nothing,  but  the  sword 
was  his  chief  possession  and  his  pride.  It  would 
be  so  easy  to  carry  away !  He  looked  at  it  lov- 
ingly for  a  minute,  and  laid  it  with  the  rest.    All 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  83 

these  things  were  his  very  own,  but  something 
told  him  that  he  must  not  take  tliem  away.  Then 
he  took  the  long  coarse  white  turban  cloth  from 
his  head,  and  wrapped  everything  skilfully  in  it. 
Nothing  jangled,  and  when  the  parcel  was  made 
up  it  was  flat  and  even.  Then  Sunni,  with  his 
English  pen,  printed 


M  '^Mi- 


upon  one  side  of  it,  which  in  English  letters  would 
have  been  spelled  "Maharajah  ka  wasti,"  and 
which  meant  simply,  "For  the  Mahaajah." 
Upon  the  other  he  wrote  in  the  large  round  hand 
that  Dr.  Roberts  had  taught  him. 


Ui 


To  your  Honner,  the  Maharajah  of  Chita, 
Sunni  will  take  your  Honner  in  his  hart  to  Ms 
oun  country^  hut  the  gifs  are  too  heavier 

Sunni  had  certainly  learned  politeness  at  last 
among  the  Rajputs.  Then  lie  put  the  parcel  back 
into  the  box,  softly  locked  it,  and  laid  the  key  on 
the  cover. 


fl  1'! 


84 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


Still  nobody  came  his  way.  Sunni  took  an- 
other turban  cloth  from  its  nail  in  the  wall,  a 
finely-woven  turban  cloth,  with  blue  and  gold 
stripes,  nine  yards  long,  for  festivals.  He  twisted 
it  carelessly  round  his  neck,  and  blew  out  the  chi- 
rag.  Then  he  slipped  softly  into  the  passage,  and 
from  that  into  the  close,  dark,  high  walled  corri- 
dors that  led  into  the  outer  courts.  He  stepped 
quickly,  but  carefully  ;  the  corridors  were  full  of 
sleeping  servants.  Twice  he  passed  a  sentinel. 
The  first  was  stupid  with  opium,  and  did  not 
notice  him.  Mar  Singh,  the  second,  was  very  wide 
awake. 

"  Where  go  you,  Sunui-Ji  f  "  he  asked,  inquisi- 
tively. 

*'I  go  to  speak  with  Tooni  about  a  matter 
which  troubles  me  so  that  I  cannot  sleep,"  an- 
swered Sunni;  *'and  afterwards  I  return  to  the 
little  south  balcony  that  overlooks  the  river ;  it 
will  be  cooler  there  if  the  vvind  blows." 

As  Sunni  went  on,  the  thoughts  of  the  sentinel 
became  immediately  fixed  upon  the  necessity  of 


■  ji^i»ut«t  Mld>w^*«))*'  vvm- 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


85 


being  awake  when  the  sahib's  son  should  pass  in 
again — the  sahib's  son  had  the  ear  of  the  Mahara- 
jah. 

The  ayah's  hut  was  in  the  very  farthest  corner 
of  the  courtyard  she  had  begged  for,  somewhat 
apart  from  the  others.  It  was  quite  dark  inside 
when  Sunni  pushed  open  the  door,  but  the  old 
woman,  slumbering  light,  started  up  from  her 
charpoy  with  a  little  cry. 

"  Choop/  "  said  he  in  a  low.  quick  tone ;  and 
Tooni,  recognising  his  voice,  was  instantly  silent. 

Sunni  made  his  way  to  the  side  of  the  bed,  and 
took  one  of  her  hands. 

"Listen,  Tooni,"  said  he,  in  the  same  tone,  "I 
am  come  for  what  is  mine.     Give  it  to  me." 

**  Sonny  Sahib ! "  quavered  the  old  woman 
hoarsely,  "  what  have  I  to  give  you  ?  Dil  Jcushi,* 
I  have  nothing." 

"What  from  fear  you  have  never  given  up, 
nor  burnt,  nor  thrown  away,"  said  Sunni,  firmly ; 


*  Heart's  delight. 


86  THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAUIB. 

"what  you  said  false  words  to  ee-Wobbis 
about,  when  you  told  him  it  had  been  stolen 
from  you.  My  little  black  book,  with  my  God 
in  it." 

'^  Hazur  !    I  have  it  not." 

"Give  it  to  me,"  said  Sunni. 

The  old  woman  raised  herself  in  the  bed.  "  A 
sahib's  promise  is  written  in  gold,"  said  she; 
"promise  that  the  Maharajah  tihall  never  know." 

"He  shall  never  know,"  said  Sunni. 

Tooni  felt  her  way  to  the  side  of  the  hut ; 
then  her  hand  fumbled  along  the  top  of  the  wall ; 
it  seemed  to  Sunni  for  an  interminable  time.  At 
a  certain  place  she  parted  the  thatch  and  put  her 
hand  into  it  with  a  little  rustling  that  Sunni 
thought  might  be  heard  in  the  very  heart  of  the 
palace.  Then  she  drew  out  a  small,  tight  sewn, 
oilskin  bag,  that  had  taken  the  shape  of  the  book 
inside  it,  groped  across  the  hut  again,  and  gave  it 
to  Sunni.  The  boy's  hand  trembled  as  he  took  it, 
and  without  a  word  he  slipped  into  the  darkness 
outside. 


>  W^P'^'^'f"?  jV- 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


87 


. 


Then  he  stopped  short  and  went  back.  *'  Great 
thanks  to  you,  Tooni-j>7,"  he  said  softly  into  the 
darkness  of  the  hut.  "When  I  find  my  own 
country  I  will  come  back  and  take  yoa  there  too. 
And  while  I  am  gone  Moti  will  love  you,  Tooni-Ji. 
Peace  be  to  you !  " 

Mar  Singh  was  still  awake  when  Sunni  re- 
entered the  palace.  The  wind  had  come,  he  said. 
Sleep  would  rest  upon  the  eyelids  of  Sunni-yz  in 
the  south  balcony. 

It  was  a  curious  little  place,  the  south  balcony, 
really  not  a  balcony  at  all,  but  a  round-pillared 
pavilion  with  a  roof  that  jutted  out  above  the  city 
wall.  It  hung  over  a  garden,  too,  rather  a 
cramped  garden,  the  wall  and  the  river  came  so 
close,  and  one  that  had  been  left  a  good  deal  to 
take  care  of  itself.  Some  fine  pipal-trees  grew  in 
it  though,  one  of  them  towered  within  three  feet  of 
the  balcony,,  while  the  lower  branches  overspread 
the  city  wall.  All  day  long  the  green  parrakeets 
flashed  in  and  out  of  the  pipal-trees,  screaming 
and  chattering,  while  the  river  wound  blue  among 


88 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


n 


the  yellow  sands  outside  the  wall ;  but  to-night 
the  only  sound  in  them  was  the  whispering  of  the 
leaves  as  the  south  wind  passed,  and  both  the 
river  and  the  sands  lay  silver  gray  in  the  stai light. 
Sunni,  lying  full  length  upon  the  balcony,  listened 
with  all  his  might.  From  the  courtyard,  away 
round  to  the  right  where  the  stables  were,  came  a 
pony's  neigh,  and  Sunni,  as  he  heard  it  once — 
twice — thrice — felt  his  eyes  fill  with  tears.  It 
was  the  voice  of  his  pony,  of  his  ^^  DJiooplal,^^ 
his  "red  sunlight,"  and  he  would  never  ride 
Dhooplal  again.  The  south  breeze  brought  no 
other  sound,  the  palace  stretched  on  either  side 
of  him  dark  and  still,  a  sweet  heavy  fragrance 
from  a  frangipanni-tree  in  the  garden  floated 
up,  and  that  was  all.  Sunni  looked  across  the 
river,  and  saw  that  a  group  of  palms  on  the 
other  side  was  beginning  to  stand  distinctly 
against  the  sky.  Then  he  remembered  that  he 
must  make  haste. 

The  first  thing  he  did  was  to  unwind  his  long 
turban  from  his  neck,  and  cut  it  in  two.    Two- 


t';! 


•  ywimiw.','*- '>»''»'•"  'i:fr"!^">fp 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAIIIB. 


89 


! 


thirds  he  twisted  round  his  waist,  the  other  he 
made  fast  to  one  of  the  little  red  stone  pillars  of 
the  balcony.  It  himg  straight  and  black  down 
into  the  shadows  of  the  pipal-tree.  Then,  very 
gradually  and  cautiously,  Sunr.^*  slipped  over  the 
balcony's  edge  and  let  himself  down,  down,  till 
he  reached  a  branch  thick  enough  to  cling  to. 
The  turban  was  none  too  long,  the  branches  at  the 
top  w^ere  so  slender.  Just  as  he  grasped  a  thick 
one,  clutching  it  with  both  arras  and  legs,  and 
swaying  desjoerately  in  the  dark,  he  felt  a  rush  of 
wings  across  his  face,  and  a  great  white  owl  flew 
out  hooting  in  her  panic.  The  boy  almost  missed 
his  catch  with  fear,  and  the  Maharajah,  wakeful 
in  his  apartments,  lost  another  good  hour's  sleep 
through  hearing  the  owl's  cry.  It  was  the  worst 
of  omens,  the  Maharajah  believed,  and  sometimes 
he  believed  it  with  less  reason. 

As  quickly  as  he  dared,  Sunni  let  himself 
down  branch  by  branch  till  he  reached  the  level 
of  the  wall.  Presently  he  stood  upon  it  in  the 
subsiding    rustle  of  the  leaves,    breathless  and 


90 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


trembling.  He  seemed  to  have  disturbed  every 
living  thing  within  a  hundred  yards.  A  score  of 
bats  flew  up  from  the  wall  crevices,  a  flying  fox 
struck  him  on  the  shoulder,  at  his  feet  something 
black  and  slender  twisted  away  into  a  darker 
place.  Sunni  stood  absolutely  still,  gradually 
letting  go  his  hold  upon  the  pipal  twigs.  Pres- 
ently everything  was  as  it  had  been  before,  ex- 
cept for  the  little  dark  motionless  figure  on  the 
wall ;  and  the  south  wind  was  bringing  across  the 
long,  shrill,  mournful  howls  of  the  jackals  that 
plundered  the  refuse  of  the  British  camp  half  a 
mile  away. 

Then  Sunni  laid  down  flat  on  the  top  of  the 
wall,  and  began  to  work  himself  with  his  hands 
and  feet  towards  the  nearest  embrasure.  An 
old  cannon  stood  in  this,  and  threatened  with 
its  wide  black  mouth  any  foe  that  should  be 
foolish  enough  to  think  of  attacking  the  fort 
from  the  river.  This  venerable  piece  of  ammuni- 
tion had  not  been  fired  for  ten  years,  and  would 
burst  to  a  certainty  if  it  were  fired  now ;  but  as 


It; 

m 


'*., 


1 


every 


core  of 

ng  fox 
letliirg 

darker 
duaWy 

Pres- 
e,  ex- 
»n  the 
3s  the 

that 
alt  SL 


'  the 
inds 

An 
vith 

be 
fort 
mi- 
ald 

as 


An  early-morning  adventure. 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  91 

nobody  had  ever  dreamed  of  attacking  Lalpore 
from  the  river  that  didn't  particularly  matter. 
When  Sunni  reached  it,  he  crouched  down  in  its 
shadow — the  greyness  behind  the  palms  was 
growing  paler — and  took  the  rest  of  his  turban 
cloth  from  his  waist.  Then  he  took  off  his  coat, 
and  began  to  unwind  a  rope  from  his  body— a 
rope  made  up  of  all  sorts  of  ends,  thick  and  thin, 
long  and  short,  and  pieced  out  with  leather 
thongs.  Sunni  was  considerably  more  comfort- 
able when  he  had  divested  himself  of  it.  He  tied 
the  rope  and  the  turban  cloth  together,  and  fas- 
tened the  rope  end  to  the  old  gun's  wheel.  He 
looked  over  for  a  second — no  longer — ^but  it  was 
too  dark  to  tell  how  far  down  the  face  of  the 
thirty-foot  wall  his  ragged  contrivance  hung.  It 
was  too  dark  as  well  to  see  whether  the  water 
rippled  against  the  wall  or  not ;  but  Sunni  knew 
that  the  river  was  low.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he 
had  only  about  five  feet  to  drop,  and  he  went 
very  comfortably  into  a  thick  bed  of  wet  sand. 

Nor  was  anything  known  of  his  going  in  Lalpore 
7 


!!?;'; 


92 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


until  daybreak,  when  one  of  the  palace  sweepers 
found  the  end  of  a  blue  and  gold  turban  flapping 
about  the  south  balcony  ;  and  Moti,  who  often 
went  early  to  tell  his  dreams  to  Sunni,  brought 
the  Maharajah  a  parcel. 


L 


epers 
pping 
often 
mglit 


CHAPTER  X. 

"What's  this?"  said  Colonel  Starr,  looking 
up  from  his  camp  table,  -vhere  he  was  writing  a 
final  message  for  translation  to  the  Maharajah. 
The  sun  was  on  the  point  of  rising,  the  air  was 
crisp,  and  the  sky  was  splendid.  Lalpore,  on  her 
buttressed  slope,  sat  as  proud  and  as  silent  as 
ever ;  but  something  like  a  blue  ribbon  floated 
from  the  south  wall  over  the  river. 

"  What's  this « "  said  Colonel  Starr,  with  the 
deepest  possible  astonishment. 

"  Pris'ner,  sir,"  answered  Thomas  Jones,  sa- 
luting. 

''What?''  said  the  Colonel.  "IS'onsensel 
Where  did  you  get  him  ? " 

*'Beg  pardon,  sir.  Peters  were  on  duty,  sir, 
at  the  second  outpost,  sir.  It  were  about  two 
hours  ago  as  far  as  I  could  judge,  sir,  not  'avin' 

93 


94  THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 

the  time  by  me.  Peters  seed  prisoner  a-comin' 
strite  fer  the  camp  across  the  sands  from  the 
river,  sir.  Peters  sings  out  *  Oo  goes  ? '  ICand 
there  been  no  notiss  took,  pints,  sir." 

*'  Yes,"  interposed  Sunni,  composedly,  in  his 
best  English,  '*he  did.  But  he  did  not  fire. 
And  that  was  well,  for  he  might  have  hit  me.  I 
am  not  broken." 

"Go  on,  Jones,"  said  the  Colonel.  *'This  is 
very  queer." 

"  Pris'ner  were  about  ten  yards  off,  sir,  *an,  as 
*e  says,  Peters  might  'a  hit  'im,"  said  Sergeant 
Jones,  with  solemn  humour,  "but  afore  he'd 
made  up  'is  mind  to  fire,  'e'd  come  so  close  Peters 
saw  'ow  small  he  was,  an'  therefore  didn't,  sir." 

"Quite  right,"  remarked  Sunni.  "Peters 
might  have  killed  me." 

The  Colonel  nodded.  He  was  looking  with 
absorbed  interest  into  Sunni's  eyes.  He  came 
out  of  his  instant  of  abstraction  with  a  start, 
while  Jones  went  on  with  respectful  volubility. 

"Beggin'  pardon,  sir,  Peters   says  as  'ow  'e 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


95 


were  all  struck  of  a  heap,  sir,  at  'earin'  the  young 
'un  call  out  in  English,  sir,  an'  bein'  so  light  com- 
plected fer  a  native,  sir,  an'  even  lighter  in  that 
light,  Peters  didn't  rightly  know  wot  'e  might  be 
firin'  at,  sir.      Peters  do  be  a  bit  superstitious." 

"  Peters  took  him  then,  I  suppose  ?  "  The 
Colonel  smiled  ironically. 

**Beggin'  your  pardon,  sir,  it  was  rather  'im  as 
took  Peters.      'Ee  walked  strite  up   to  'im,   an' 

*  Ware  is  the  burra  *  sahib  \ '  says  'e.  Peters 
sends  'im  into  the  guard  tent  to  me  as  'e  passed 
on  his  beat,  and  pris'ner  says  '  You  ain't  the 
burra  sahib,'  says  he.    Then  I  says  to  pris'ner, 

*  You  hito  t  an'  give  an  account  of  yerself , '  says 
I.  Says  'e  quite  'aughty  like,  '  I'll  account  fer 
myself  to  the  burra  sahib,'  an'  wouldn't  take  no 
chaff.  But  'e  bitoes,  an'  curls  'isself  up  in  the 
sand,  an'  goes  sound  asleep  in  no  time— an'  'ere  'e 
is,  sir." 

"  Also,"  corrected  Sunni,  "  he  gave  me  some 


'e 


*  Principal. 


f  Sit  down  on  the  ground. 


^  ■■..,., 


96 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


coffee.  He  is  a  good  man.  Are  you  the  burra 
sahib?"  he  asked  the  Colonel. 

But  Colonel  Starr  was  not  in  a  mood  to  answer 
questions  regarding  his  dignity.  He  looked  at 
the  queer  slender  figure  before  him,  in  its  torn 
coat  of  embroidered  silk,  and  its  narrow,  shape- 
less, dirty  cotton  trousers  ;  and  especially  he 
looked  at  the  boy's  hair  and  eyes — his  wavy  yel- 
low hair  and  his  blue  eyes. 

"You  are  not  a  Rajput,  you  are  an  English 
boy,"  he  said  finally,  with  amazed  conviction. 

At  another  time  the  Colonel  would  have  been 
wild  with  excitement  at  such  a  discovery,  but  for 
the  moment  his  mind  was  full  of  graver  things. 
In  an  hour  he  meant  to  attack  Lalpore.  He  dis- 
missed his  kindling  enthusiasm,  and  added 
simply,  "How  came  you  here?" 

"I  came  by  a  rope  from  the  palace  to  the 
pipal-tree,  and  thence  to  the  south  wall,  and 
thence  to  the  river  bed.  It  was  not  hard.  Know- 
ing the  shallows  of  the  river,  I  arrived  quite 
easily  by  wading." 


¥ 


".riW,aWHr"P"4>l<'^  U> 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


97 


"You  come  from  the  fort?  Are  there  any- 
other  English  there  ? "  The  Colonel's  voice  was 
quick  and  eager. 

"Not  even  one!    Ee-Wobbis  was  there,  but 

he  is  killed." 

"Ah!"  said  Colonel  Starr.  "When  was  he 
killed  ? " 

"In  the  evening  on  tho  tenth  day  of  the 
month.  I  do  not  properly  know  for  why.  It 
was  not  the  Maharajah,"  added  Sunni  quickly  ; 
"it  was  Maun  Rao.  Ee-Wobbis  was  my  country- 
man, and  I  hate  Maun  Rao." 

The  orderly  came  for  the  final  message 
that  was  to  be  sent  to  the  Maharajah.  Colonel 
Starr  told  him  it  would  be  ready  in  half  an 
hour. 

"Have  they  given  you  any  breakfast?"  he 
asked. 

"No,  thank  you — not  yet,"  answered  Sunni 
politely. 

The  Colonel  wrote  an  order,  and  gave  it  to 
Thomas  Jones.     "  Be  smart,"  he  added. 


U  '"' 


98 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


Until  Thomas  Jones  returned  with  some 
bread  and  bacon  and  a  bowl  of  milk,  and  until 
Sunni  had  eaten  the  bread  and  drunk  the  milk, 
the  Colonel  looked  at  the  boy  as  seldom  as  he 
could,  and  said  only  two  words.  ''No  bacon T' 
he  asked. 

Sunni  flushed.  "If  it  is  excusable,"  said  he, 
"I  do  not  eat  of  the  pig." 

At  which  Colonel  Starr's  face  expressed  curi- 
osity, amusement,  and  interest  all  at  once ;  but 
he  kept  silence  until  Sunni  had  finished. 
"Now,"  said  he  pleasantly,  "listen,  my  small 
prisoner.  I  am  sure  you  have  a  great  deal  to  tell 
me  about  yourself.  Very  good,  I  will  hear  it.  I 
should  like  to  hear  it.  But  not  now — there  is  no 
time.  Since  you  have  taken  the  trouble  to  escape 
from  this  place,  you  do  not  want  to  go  back 
again,  I  suppose  ? " 

"  I  want  to  go  to  my  own  country — with  you," 
said  Sunni.     "  I  can  march." 

The  Colonel  smiled.  It  was  the  smile  of  a 
brave  man,  and  kindly.    His  men  knew  it  as  well 


ntil 
iJk, 
he 


'^I-'ria'nei;  *?>/"' 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


99 


as  they  knew  his  sterner  looks.    Sunni  thought 
it  a  beautiful  smile. 

"You  shall  go,"  he  said,  "but  we  are  not 
quite  ready  to  start  yet.  Perhaps  in  a  few  days, 
perhaps  in  a  few  weeks,  we  shall  be.  A  good 
deal  depends  on  what  you  can  tell  me." 

Sunni  looked  straight  into  the  Colonel's  eyes, 
a  little  puzzled. 

"  How  do  they  get  water  in  Lalpore  ? "  asked 
the  Colonel,  to  begin  with. 

"  There  are  four  wells,"  said  Sunni,  "  and  two 
of  them  have  no  bottom." 

"  H'm  !  And  what  is  that  white  building  with 
the  round  roof  that  we  see  from  here?" 

"That  is  the  mosque  of  Larulla,"  said  Sunni, 
"but  it  is  no  longer  of  consequence  ;  there  is  so 
little  Mussulmans  in  Lalpore.  The  soldiers  hang 
their  guns  there  now," 

"  Ah  !  And  has  the  Maharajah  many  soldiers, 
and  have  they  good  guns— new  guns  ? " 

Sunni  looked  into  the  Colonel's  face  with  eager 
pleasure  to  reply ;  but  there  he  saw  something 


100 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


that  made  him  suddenly  close  his  lips.  He  had 
not  lived  ten  years  among  the  Rajputs  without 
learning  to  read  faces,  and  in  Colonel  Starr's  he 
saw  that  all  this  talk  the  Colonel  desired  about 
Lalpore  was  not  for  Lalpore's  good.  The  boy 
thought  for  a  minute,  and  tightened  his  lips,  while 
a  little  firm  line  came  on  each  side  of  his  mouth. 
He  only  opened  them  to  say,  *'  Burra  sahib,  I  can- 
not tell  you  that." 

"But  you  must  tell  me,"  said  Colonel  Starr 
firmly. 

"No,"  returned  Sunni,  "not  that,  nor  any 
more  informations  about  the  fort." 

The  Colonel's  face  grew  stern.  He  was  not 
accustomed  to  disobedience.  "Come,"  he  said; 
"out  with  it,  boy.  I  have  no  time  to  waste." 
His  tone  was  so  serious  that  Sunni  felt  a  little 
nervous  thrill  run  all  over  him. 

"No,"  said  he. 

The  Colonel  tried  another  way:  "Come,  my 
little  chap,"  said  he  gently,  "you  are  English,  are 
you  not  ? " 


"TiF'w  (■jvFiiixwuwi  ii,i.ijwi|i|i|iiPim^|Br' 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


101 


Starr 


Sunni  nodded. 

*'Then  you  must  serve  the  English  Queen. 
She  has  sent  me  here  to  punish  the  Maharajah  for 
killing  the  padre-sahib.    You  must  help  me." 

*'The  Maharajah  did  not  kill  ee-Wobbis," 
cried  Sunni  excitedly.  "I  have  already  once 
said  that.  The  Maharajah  he  liJce  ee-Wobbis.  I 
am  English,  but  the  Maharajah  is  my  father  and 
my  mother.  I  cannot  speak  against  the  Mahara- 
jah, burra  sahib." 

There  came  a  light  into  the  Colonel's  eyes 
which  was  not  kindled  by  anger.  He  found  him- 
self liking  this  slip  of  a  ragged  urchin  with  fair 
hair,  who  defied  him — liking  him  tremendously. 
But  the  crisis  was  grave  ;  he  could  not  sacrifice 
his  men  to  a  child's  scruple  ;  he  could  not  let  him- 
self be  defied.  He  took  out  his  watch,  and  made 
his  face  hard. 

"Then,"  said  he  coldly,  "you  are  either  the 
Maharajah's  deserter  or  his  spy.  If  you  have 
deserted,  I  am  disposed  to  send  you  back  to  him, 
since  you  are  of  no  use  to  us.    K  you  are  his  spy. 


102 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


it  is  my  duty  to  have  you  shot.  I  will  give  you 
five  minutes  to  save  your  skin  in." 

"But— but  you  are  my  countryman^  burra 
sahib  I "    There  was  a  sob  in  his  voice. 

The  only  possible  answer  to  that  was  a  hug,  so 
it  went  unanswered.  Colonel  Starr  set  himself  to 
think  of  his  Midlanders. 

Sunni  lifted  his  blue  eyes  entreatingly  to  the 
Colonel's  face,  but  he  had  turned  it  away.  He 
was  watching  a  little  brown  lizard  sunning  itself 
outside  the  tent  door,  and  wondering  how  long  he 
could  keep  his  disciplinary  expression.  You  could 
hear  nothing  in  the  tent  but  the  ticking  of  the 
watch.  Sunni  looked  down  at  the  lizard  too,  and 
so  the  minutes  passed. 

Three  of  them  passed.  Colonel  Starr  found 
himself  hoping  even  more  that  the  boy  should 
stand  firm  than  that  he  should  speak.  Colonel 
Starr  began  to  say  softly  within  himself,  "  I  am  a 
brute."  The  fifth  minute  was  up.  "Will  you 
speak  % "  asked  the  Colonel. 

"Burra  sahib,  no,"  said  Sunni. 


J 


■i«ii»v?'-«'|ijvjsw»i"i^iw"  ♦."■»<<  www 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


103 


ive  you 

<,  buna 

hug,  so 
nself  to 

y  to  the 
ly.  He 
ig  itself 
long  he 
)u  could 
of  the 
00,  and 

found 

should 

Colonel 

*  I  am  a 

ill  you 


*'i 


At  that  instant  Lieutenant  Pink  galloped  up  to 
the  door  of  the  tent. 

"  They've  come  to  their  senses  at  last,  sir.  Six 
mounted  men  have  just  left  the  north  gate,  signal- 
ling for  a  parley." 

The  Colonel  jumped  to  his  feet  and  gave 
half  a  dozen  orders  without  stopping.  The  last 
one  was  to  Sunni.  *'  Stay  here,"  he  said ; 
*'you  shall  soon  go  back  to  your  own  coun- 
try." 

The  Chitan  horsemen  had  ridden  out  to  an- 
nounce the  coming  of  the  Maharajah,  so  that  the 
English  officer  might  meet  him  half-way.  They 
gave  the  message  gravely,  and  rode  slowly  back. 
Half  an  hour  later  there  arose  a  great  shouting 
and  blowing  of  trumpets  inside  the  walls,  the 
royal  gate  was  flung  open,  and  the  Maharajah 
appeared,  swaying  in  a  blaze  of  silk  and  jewels 
upon  an  enormous  elephant  with  a  painted  trunk 
and  trappings  fringed  in  gold  and  silver.  Trum- 
peters and  the  crimson  flag  of  Chita  went  before 
him ;  Maun  Rao  and  the  other  generals  rode  be- 


104 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


hind  him  ;  at  his  side  sat  his  bard,  his  poet  lau- 
reate, with  glowing  eyes,  speaking  constantly  into 
his  royal  ear  the  glorious  annals  of  his  house. 
Colonel  Starr  and  his  little  suite  met  this  wonder- 
ful cavalcac^e  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  city, 
and  the  Maharajah  and  the  Colonel  dismounted. 
Whereupon  the  magnificent  Rajput,  in  his  dia- 
mond aigrettes  and  his  silken  swathings,  and  the 
broad-shouldered  British  officer,  in  his  Queen's 
red  coat,  solemnly  kissed  each  other.  They  ex- 
changed other  politenesses,  spoke  of  the  health 
of  the  Viceroy  and  of  his  "good  friend"  the 
Maharajah,  and  His  Highness  arranged  a  durbar 
to  be  held  in  his  hall  of  audience  at  two  that 
afternoon,  when  he  would  hear  the  desires  of  the 
British  Raj. 

Strangely  enough,  it  occurred  to  nobody  to 
wonder  why  the  Maharajah  had  so  suddenly 
changed  his  mind.  To  nobody,  that  is,  except 
Sonny  Sahib.  He  guessed  the  reason,  and  sitting 
all  morning  in  a  corner  of  the  Colonel's  tent,  as 
he  had  been  told,  he  thought  about  it  very  seri- 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


105 


ously.  Once  or  twice  he  had  to  swallow  a  lump 
in  his  throat  to  help  him  to  think.  The  Maha- 
rajah's reason  was  that  he  supposed  that  Sonny- 
Sahib  had  told  the  English  about  Lalpore's  am- 
munition ;  and  that,  under  the  circumstances, 
was  enough  to  bring  lumps  into  anybody's 
thi'oat. 

The  Colonel  was  very  busy,  and  took  no  notice 
of  him,  except  to  say  that  he  should  have  some 
dinner.  He  heard  talk  of  the  Maharajah's  visit 
and  of  the  durbar,  and  he  revolved  that  too. 
When  the  time  came,  Sunni  had  concluded  that 
he  also  must  go  to  the  durbar.  He  said  so 
to  Colonel  Starr. 

"Nonsense!"  said  the  Colonel.  **And  yet," 
he  added  reflectively,  **  it  might  be  useful  to  have 
you  there.  I  daresay  you  will  be  safe  enough. 
You  are  not  afraid  1" 

Sunni  said  he  was  not  afraid.  So  they  all 
went,  and  the  Maharajah,  rising  from  his  ivory 
chair,  received  them  with  much  state  and  cere- 
mony.   He  frowned  when  he  saw  Sunni,  but  said 


106 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


nothing.  His  Highness  felt  that  he  was  not  in  a 
position  to  resent  anything,  and  thought  bitterly 
of  Petroff  Gortschakin. 

The  durbar  i)roceeded.-  Formally,  and  accord- 
ing to  strict  precedence,  each  man  spoke.  With 
great  amiability  Colonel  Starr  presented  the  de- 
mands of  the  English  Government ;  with  greater 
amiability  the  Maharajah  and  his  officers  repelled 
them.  But  Colonel  Starr  was  firm,  and  he  had 
the  unanswerable  argument  of  three  hundred 
well-armed  men  and  two  nine-pounders,  which 
Maun  Rao  would  have  to  meet  with  Petroff 
Gortschakin's  cartridges.  After  duly  and  sadly 
reflecting  upon  this,  the  Maharajah  concluded 
that  he  would  give  up  ee-Wobbis's  murderers — 
one  of  them  at  any  rate — and  let  himself  be  ar- 
ranged, at  all  events  for  the  present.  Afterwards 
he  would  say  to  Maun  Rao  that  it  was  only  for 
the  present.  He  summoned  all  his  politeness  to 
his  aid,  and  said  in  the  end  that  such  was  his  ad- 
miration for  the  English  Lord  Sahib  in  Calcutta, 
such  his  friendship  and  respect,  that  he  would 


it 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


107 


welcome  any  ooe  who  came  to  Lalpore  in  his 
name. 

*'  Accompanied  by  a  small  force,"  added  Colo- 
nel Starr  in  the  vernacular,  and  the  Maharajah 
also  added,  while  Maun  Rao  behind  him  ground 
his  teeth,   *' Accompanied  by  a  small  force." 

"One  word  more,"  said  the  Maharajah,  "and 
the  durbar  is  ended.  The  opium  pledge  will  ap- 
pear, and  we  will  drink  it  with  you.  From  the 
palm  of  your  hand  I  will  drink,  and  from  the 
palm  of  my  hand  you  shall  drin>  ;  but  the  lips 
of  the  boy  who  comes  with  you  shall  not  taste 
it.  The  Rajputs  do  not  drink  opium  with  their 
betrayers." 

Sunni  heard  and  his  face  grew  crimson. 

"  Maharajah  ! "  he  shouted,  "  I  did  not  tell ;  I 
did  not  tell." 

The  Maharajah  shrugged  his  shoulders  con- 
temptuously. 

"  He  is  not  of  our  blood  ;  why  should  he  have 

kept  silence?"  said  the  old  man. 

"But  he  did  keep  silence,"  said  the  Colonel, 
8 


n  !i 


108 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


looking  straight  into- the  Chitan's  sunken  eyes. 
*'  I  asked  him  about  your  men  and  your  ammu- 
nition. I  commanded  him,  I  threatened  him.  I 
give  you  my  word  of  honour  as  a  soldier  that  he 
would  say  nothing." 

The  English  in  India  are  always  believed.  A 
cry  went  up  from  the  other  Chitans.  Moti  clap- 
ped his  hands  together,  Maun  Rao  caught  the 
boy  up  and  kissed  him. 

**  Then,"  said  the  Maharajah  slowly,  **  I  love 
you  still,  Sunni,  and  you  shall  drink  the  opium 
with  the  rest.  Your  son,"  he  added  to  Colonel 
Starr,   **will  bring  praise  to  his  father." 

The  Colonel  smiled.  *'I  have  no  children," 
said  he.     "I  wish  he  were  indeed  my  son." 

"  If  he  "is  not  your  son,"  asked  the  Maharajah 
cunningly,  "why  did  you  bring  him  to  the 
durbar  ? " 

'*  Because  he  wished  to  come " 

**To  say  that  I  did  not  tell,"  said  Sunni. 

"Call  the  woman,"  ordered   His  Highness 

She  was  in  the  crowd  in  the  courtyard,  wait- 


.?Bf ',''^»"'^ 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


109 


)j 


ing  to  see  her  old  master  pass  again.     She  came 

in  bent  and  shaking,  with  her  head-covering  over 

her  face.     She  threw   herself  at   Colonel  Starr's 

feet,  and  kissed  them. 

"Cap tan    Sahib!"    she    quavered,     "Captan 

Sahib  I  Mirhani  do  I "  * 

There  was  absolute    silence  in  the  audience 

hall.     A  parrakeet  flashed  through  it  screaming. 

The  shadows  were  creeping  east  over  the  marble 
floor ;  a  little  sun  flamed  out  on  the  hilt  of  Maun 
Rao's  sword.  The  Colonel  stooped  over  the  old 
woman  and  raised  her  up.  His  face  whitened  as 
he  looked  at  her. 

**It's  Tooni!"  he  said,  hoarsely.  And  then, 
in  a  changed  voice,  unconscious  of  the  time  and 
place,  "Tooni,  what  happened  to  the  memsahib  ! " 
he  asked. 

The  ayah  burst  into  an  incoherent  torrent  of 
words  and  tears.  The  memsahib  was  very,  very 
ill,  she  said.     There  were  not  five  breaths  left  in 


Give  mercy. 


i^T.'i-  .  ■r<;7  VI.-.- 


110 


THE  STORY  OP  SONNY  SAHIB. 


her  body.  The  memsahib  had  gone  in  the  jart — 
and  the  chota  baba  * — the  Sonny  Sahib — had  al- 
ways had  ffood  milk — and  she  had  taken  none  of 
the  memsahib's  ornaments,  only  her  little  black 
book  with  the  charm  in  it 

"That  is  true  talk,"  interposed  Sunni, 
"Tooni's  words  are  all  true.  Here  is  the  little 
black  book." 

Colonel  Starr  had  the  face  of  a  man  in  a 
dream,  half  conscious  and  trying  to  wake  up. 
His  lips  worked  as  he  took  the  oilskin  bag  from 
Sunni,  and  he  looked  at  it  helplessly.  Little 
Lieutenant  Pink  took  it  gently  from  him,  slit  it 
down  the  side  with  a  pocket-knife,  and  put  back 
into  the  Colonel's  hand  the  small  leather  bound 
book.  On  the  back  of  it  was  printed,  in  tar- 
nished gold  letters,  "  Common  Prayer." 

It  was  a  very  little  book,  but  the  Colonel  was 
obliged  to  hold  it  with  both  hands.  Even  then 
they  trembled  so  that  he  could  hardly  turn  to  the 


*  The  little  baby. 


1 


50 


i? 


' "TWI^^  i^l«     '-Jin     «V^J.WPia«4i^in*l 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB.  m 

fly-leaf.  His  eyes  filled  as  lie  read  there, 
"Evelyn  Starr  from  John  Starr,  December  5th, 
1855,"  and  remembered  when  he  had  written  that. 
Still  the  shadows  crept  eastward,  the  mynas  chat- 
tered in  the  garden,  the  scent  of  the  roses  came 
across  warm  in  the  sun.  The  Kajputs  looked  at 
him  curiously,  but  nc»  one  spoke. 

The  Colonel's  eyes  were  fixed  upon  Sunni's 
face.  He  made  one  or  two  efforts  to  speak  that 
did  not  succeed.  Then  "And  this  is  the  baby," 
he  said. 

"-Hazur,    ha!''*    replied    Tooni,    ''Sonny 
^         I  SaJiib  hai ! " 

The  Colonel  looked  at  Sunni  an  instant  longer, 
and  the  boy  smiled  into  his  face.  "  Yes,"  said 
he  assuredly,  with  a  deep  breath,  "it  is  Sonny 
Sahib." 

*'  The  woman  saw  your  honour  this  morning, 
and  the  khaber  was  brought  to  me  then,"  re- 
marked the  Maharajah  complacently. 

*  "  Your  Honour,  ves.    It  is  Sonnv  Sahib." 


.'=« 


ts 


112 


THE  STORY  OF  SONNY  SAHIB. 


It  was  three  weeks,  after  all,  before  the  Maha- 
rajah of  Chita  was  satisfactorily  arranged.  For 
three  weeks  Thomas  Jones  indulged  in  roast  kid 
and  curry  every  day  from  Lalpore,  and  Lieu- 
tenant Pink,  having  no  more  warlike  way  of 
amusing  himself,  made  sanguinary  water-colour 
sketches  of  the  city  to  send  home  to  the  Misses 
Pink  in  England.  The  day  came  at  last  when 
Colonel  Starr  and  Sonny  Sahib  went  to  pay  their 
final  respects  to  the  Maharajah.  With  his  hand 
upon  his  son's  shoulder  the  Colonel  turned  once 
more  after  the  last  courtesy  had  been  exchanged. 

"Your  Highness  will  remember,"  said  the 
English  soldier  for  the  pleasure  of  saying  it, 
"he  did  not  tell." 


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J  ■ 
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ABANDONING  AN   ADOPTED  FARM.       By 
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T 


RUE  RICHES.     By  Francois  Copp^.e. 


Delicate  as  an  apple    blossom,  with  its  limp  cover  of  pale  green  and  its 
stalk  of  golden-rod,  is  this  little  volume  containing  two  st>ries  by  Fran5ois  Cop- 
p6.e    The  tales  are  charmingly  told,  and  their  setting  is  an  artistic  delight."— y'/w7«a'^/- 
phia  Bulletin. 

TRUTHFUL     WOMAN    IN    SOUTHERN 
CALIFORNIA.    By  Kate  Sanborn. 

"  The  veracious  writer  considers  the  pros  of  the  '  glorious  climate '  of  California, 
and  then  she  gives  the  c^/w.  .  .  .  The  book  is  sprightly  and  amiably  entertairung.  The 
descriptions  have  the  true  Sanborn  touch  of  vitality  and  humor." — Fhiladelphia  Ledger. 

BORDER    LEANDER.     By    Howard   Seely, 
author  of  "A  Nymph  of  the  West,"  etc. 

"  We  confess  to  a  great  liking  for  the  tale  Mr.  Seely  tells  .  .  .  There  are  pecks  of 
trouble  ere  the  devoted  lovers  secure  the  tying  of  their  love  knot,  and  Mr.  Seely  de- 
scribes them  all  with  a  Texan  flavor  that  is  refreshing."— A^.  Y.  Times. 

New  York :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


A 


A 


il  »™,llf  JW«>»I,I 


D.  APPLETON    &    CO.'S    PUBLICATIONS. 


By 


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OUND  THE  RED  LAMP,    By  A.  Con  an  Doyle, 

author  of  "  The  White  Company,"  "  The  Adventures  of  Sher- 
lock Holmes,"  "The  Refugees,"  etc.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1,50. 

The  "  Red  Lamp,"  the  trademark,  as  it  were,  of  the  English  country  practitioner's 
office,  is  the  central  point  of  these  dramatic  stories  of  professional  life.  'I'here  are  no 
secrets  for  the  snrgeon,  and,  a  surgeon  himself  as  well  as  a  novelist,  the  author  has 
made  a  most  artistic  use  of  the  motives  and  springs  of  action  revealed  to  him  in  a  field 
of  which  he  is  the  master. 

"  A  volume  of  bright,  clever  sketches,  .  .  .  an  array  of  facts  and  fancies  of  medical 
life,  and  contains  some  of  the  gifted  author's  best  work." — London  Daily  News. 


A 


FLASH  OF  SUMMER.  By  Mrs.  W.  K.  Clif- 
ford, author  of  "  Love  Letters  of  a  Worldly  Woman,"  "  Aunt 
Anne,"  etc.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  The  story  is  well  written  and  interesting,  the  style  is  limpid  and  pure  as  fresh 
water,  and  is  so  artistically  done  that  it  is  only  a  second  thought  tliat  notices  ic." — San 
Francisco  Call. 


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HE  LILAC  SUNBONNET.  A  Lm^e  Story.  By 
S.  R.  Crockett,  author  of  "The  Stickit  Minister,"  "The 
Raiders,"  etc.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  A  love  story  pure  and  simple,  one  of  the  old-fashioned,  wholesome,  sunshiny  kind, 
with  a  pure-minded,  sourd-hcarted  hero,  and  a  heroine  who  is  merely  a  good  and  beauti- 
ful woman  ;  and  if  any  other  love  story  half  so  sweet  has  been  written  this  year  it  has 
escaped  us." — New  York  Times. 

J\/TAELCHO.     By  the  Hon.  Emily  Lawless,  author 
-^^  of  "Crania,"  "  Hurrish,"  etc.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"A  paradox  of  literarj'  genius.  It  is  not  a  history,  and  yet  has  more  of  the  stuff 
of  history  in  it,  more  of  the  true  national  character  and  fate,  than  any  histoucl  mono- 
graph we  know.  It  is  not  a  novel,  and  yet  fascinates  us  more  than  any  novel." — 
London  Spectator. 


^HE  LA  AW    OF  THE  SUN.      Vistas  Mexicanas. 

■^       By  Christian  Reid,  author  of  "  The  Land  of  the  Sky,"  "  A 

Comedy  of  Elopement,"  etc.    Illustrated.    i2mo.    Cloth,  .*r. 75. 

In  this  picturesque  travel  romance  the  author  of  "  The  Land  of  the  ?ky  " 
takes  her  characters  from  New  Orleans  to  fascinating  Mexican  cities  like 
Guanajuato,  Zacatecas,  Aguas  Calientes,  Guadalajara,  and  f  f  course  the  C  iiy 
of  iMexico.  What  they  see  and  what  they  do  are  desciibcd  in  a  viv?ci(Ji:s 
style  which  renders  the  book  most  valuable  to  those  who  wish  an  inte  .-btir.j^ 
Mexican  travel-book  unencumbered  with  details,  while  the  story  as  a  story 
sustains  the  high  reputation  of  this  talented  author. 


New  York  :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


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HE  THREE  MUSKETEERS.  By  Alexandre 
Dumas.  An  Edition  de  luxe  (limited  to  750  copies),  with  250 
Illustrations  by  Maurice  Leloir.  In  two  volumes.  Royal  8vo. 
Buckram,  with  specially  designed  cover.     $i2.co. 


By  arrangement  with  the  French 
publishers,  Messrs.  D.  Appleton 
&  Company  have  secured  the 
American  rights  for  this,  the 
finest  editi;m  of  Dumas's  im- 
mortal romance  which  has 
been  published.  The  illus- 
trations are  carefully  printed 
from  tlie  original  blocks,  and 
this  edition  therefore  has  an 
unapproachable  distinction 
in  point  of  pictorial  quality. 


.."<^S"*3lH?S^ 


The  translation  has  been  scrupu- 
lously revised,  and  every  effort  has 
been  made  to  present  a  perfect  edition 
of  Dumas's  masterpiece. 

•' Such  a  book  lends  itself  to  the  draughtsman's  art,  and  both  requires 
and  rewards  decoration.  But  it  must  be  decoration  of  the  best ;  and  it  has 
waited  long.  At  length,  however — I  have  it  before  me  now — an  edition  has 
been  prepared  which  should  satisfy  both  the  lovers  of  black  and  white  and 
the  lovers  of  picturesque  fiction.  ...  It  is  scarcely  too  much  to  say  that 
were  Alexandre  Dumas  alive  to-day,  to  see  this  latest  form  of  his  greatest 
work — first  published  exactly  fifty  years  ago — he  who  loved  the  sumptuous 
w  ith  an  almost  tropical  fervor,  and  buUt  a  grand  theater  for  the  production 
of  his  own  dramas,  would  weep  tears  of  joy  over  his  offspring." — Stanlry 
J.  Weyman,  in  The  Book  Buyer. 


New  York :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO..  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


St) 


s. 

EXANDRE 

i),  with  250 

Royal  8vo. 


the  French 
D.  Appleton 
e  secured  the 
for  this,  the 
Dumas's  im- 
!  which  has 

The  illus- 
fuUy  printed 
I  blocks,  and 
efore  has  an 

distinction 
}rial  quality. 


loth  requires 

;  and  it  has 

1  edition  has 

d  white  and 

to  say  that 

his  greatest 

;  sumptuous 

e  production 

"— Stanlry 


cnue. 


